You're Welcome
by personafour
Summary: <html><head></head>Life just isn't fair. Who said it was, anyway?</html>
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Okay, so I have all the time in the world, but I never write down anything I want to write down. It's like, writing is my passion but I can never sit down and write something coming from me. So I'm writing this as in memory of my bestfriend, Jake. He committed suicide on May 24-26th, 2010. I have not heard from him since, so he's most likely dead. It'll be the anniversary of his death next month, and the following on the 26th of June, is the day I started talking to him/his birthday. As you can imagine, it's hard for me. So this is what I'm writing, as it's for him.

He was my best friend and this story basically reflects his.

This first chapter is short for a reason. It gets longer, I promise. Let me know what you think, if it's bad so far, review please. Anyway, thanks.

-havefuckingheart

You're Welcome.

"Are you finished?" The elderly, yet smiling, woman asked the petite Hyuuga. She was scribbling her signature before returning the clipboard, with a nod. The room was filled with an aroma of plastic gloves, and blood. "You can knock on Dr. Hatake's door in a few minutes, why don't you sit over there?" Nodding, the Hyuuga walked over to the waiting room not too far from the main desk. She was practically shaking of excitement. She had gotten the job as the nurse, and not to mention so soon; she had only submitted her application the day before. Although her Father didn't necessarily approve of her wanting to pursue a career helping others, she thought that's what she did best and that's what she loved doing.

They always say to pursue what you want, and for yourself, no one else, right? A tall, middle-aged man, about no more than thirty eight, came out the door on her left side. It read "Dr. Hatake". He had his glossy gray hair pulled back with a cap, a mask covering his face. "Is there a Hyuuga, Hinata here?"

Feeling slightly embarrassed, she nodded as she stood up, looking up at the six foot two man. Chuckling, he gestured to her with his hand down the hall. "Uniforms are down there, pick a locker, and then if you could please head to room thirteen, it'd save me a lot of time." He informed her. "I guess what I'm basically saying is that you'll be stuck with that patient for a while, that is, until he gets himself together."

"A-alright." She gave him a small smile, and followed the instructions she managed to remember. The floors were spotless, and many people frantically moved about the main floor. She grabbed a uniform and changed in the locker room—it was weird how they had that in a hospital, of all places—and locked up her personal items before pulling her long hair into a sloppy bun, heading to her assigned room. It didn't take her much long to know where it was located, although she felt uneasy in her stomach remembering her boss's words.

"_You'll be stuck with that patient for a while, that is, until he gets himself together." _What had he meant by that? Shaking her head and biting her lip, flushing at herself for wasting two minutes thinking of endless possibilities, she knocked the door lightly before walking in. There, she saw a black haired guy no older than her age, who had dull, red eyes, and purple bags under them. It was so weird how someone who looked so bad, looked so good.

Shaking her head again for thinking about her first patient ever, she gave him a small smile. "Hello Mr.-" She pulled the clipboard off his bed, and read it slowly. "Uchiha. Do you need anything?"

Removing his face from the floor, he stared at her for what seemed like minutes, and shook his head, giving her a glare that made shivers run up her spin. "Are you s-sure? I could adjust your pillows, give you water-"

"You could also just get the fuck out." He scowled, crossing his arms against his chest, needles inserted into his arms, cords leading to a huge projector that was to his side. He was so stubborn, and did he have to be so rude to someone who was trying to _help _him?

She bit her lip, not wanting to do anything, much less say anything that would cause him to erupt. Based on the information on the clipboard, she didn't want to upset him. What she did want to do was hug him. Maybe tell him comforting words. It wasn't every day when you see someone you barely associated with in primary school who was entered into a hospital for suicide attempt.

Apparently, this was his third try.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I'm posting the second chapter (being this one) because I felt like that one was too short and I wanted to open in depth my story, basically.

Yeah, enjoy.

-havefuckingheart

You're Welcome.

Two weeks. Two weeks of agony, having to attend pointless sessions with Dr. Shizune, who would always flirt in between with the 10 year younger male, and would try to help with his problems. She'd try to plant a move, noticed how irrational and how he gave less of a shit for her feelings, and would resume her interviews with him, asking "How do you feel?" and "Are you okay?" every five minutes during it. It killed him.

"I want you to take these pills twice a day every day. When you run out, come back, and we'll gladly refill it." She murmured. "Do not forget. Eventually, I'd say, three months or so, we'll have regular sessions."

Like hell he was taking them.

"Hn." He snatched the small prescription bag and walked out, scratching his wrist. He had needles in both veins for the past two weeks; it felt rather refreshing at how they weren't there anymore. Stuffing his free hand in his pocket, he threw the bag behind him as he pushed the heavy, metal doors open and walked home.

If his brother let him back in, that is.

"You're alive." The elder Uchiha mused as he casually flipped through the local newspaper, a mug of coffee in his free hand. "Not that I'm shocked, or anything."

"Shut the fuck up." The youngest snapped as he kicked off his shoes and laid on the opposing couch on the other side of the room. He wasn't going to tolerate such ignorance at seven thirty in the morning, much less from the piece of scum who didn't even try to stop him.

He snatched the box from under the couch, and brought it to his lap. Taking off the top, he took out some needles, a bong, and two small, plastic bags, and a can of air freshener. Knowing what his younger brother was odds off ending up doing, the eldest got up without a word and slammed his room door shut.

He despised needles, he despised what his little brother was doing, and he hated everything and anything to do with drugs. Heroin, cocaine, weed, whatever and whichever it was, he hated it. He hated seeing his brother depend on substances to feel better; he hated seeing him get more and more addicted to it. He hated seeing him so much more paler than he usually was, he hated the purple rings under his eyes that never went away, and he hated seeing his chapped and cracked his face was.

What was he turning into?

He could smell the smoke and hear him wince as he inserted a needle into his right arm. He could hear him mutter inappropriate words from his room and the sudden urge to snatch it all away from him and force him into rehab had kicked in.

Sasuke was only twenty two. He had so much ahead of him.

But that was the problem. He was _twenty two. _He was an adult; he couldn't force an adult to stop doing whatever he wanted, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had a problem, Itachi knew this, but even he couldn't stop it.

Another spray, the aroma of lilacs filled the living room. Rubbing his nose with his sleeve, Sasuke put his goods back in the box, and re-arranged it for safe keeping. Spraying the room again, he dumped the empty bottle in the can and left the apartment without another word.

Rubbing his temples with his long, slender fingers, he took out a cigarette from his back pocket and a lighter and lit up his cig in the hallway, ironically under a "No Smoking" sign. Amused by his rebellion, he brought it to his lips and inhaled slowly.

He was fucking himself up for the best, he re-assured himself. If rope couldn't kill him, he was sure smoking would do the job.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: La Dispute have given me the will power to write. So I'm giving you guys a treat and also my brain with so many ideas by posting the third chapter with much more words and etc for anyone who actually is interested in my story. I just want to finish it by my bestfriend's anniversary of his death.

He'd love that.

And I changed my url due to someone finding me. It's brandfuckingnew now, not havefuckingheart.

-brandfuckingnew.

You're Welcome.

The Hyuuga wasn't exactly sure why she was being sent towards a mysterious address, but she digressed. If Dr. Hatake told her it was important, then she assumed it was and was to visit whomever patient she was assigned. Even so, it did make her extremely nervous. She bit her lip hard as she brought her shaking hand towards the metal door. Building number six, suite sixty-six, level thirteen.

The irony was making her all the more frightened. _Knock, knock._

"Who's there?" A casual, monotone voice from the other side asked, politeness as obvious as can be. The male unlocked the door realizing the short, petite woman wearing her uniform, and opened the door wider. Raising an eyebrow, he eyed her up and down. "You are?"

"Um," She fidgeted, taking her clipboard out her tote. "I'm here to check up on Uchiha, Sasuke."

"He hasn't arrived back yet, he left slightly before you just knocked. Do you want to stay until he returns?"

"Um, no, I'll come back soon?" She felt really uncomfortable under his gaze. Biting her lip, she gave him a small smile, cheeks flushing madly. "Thank you for your t-time." With that being said, she turned around and dazed down the hall when she felt his eyes turn away from her and ran towards the elevator.

Carelessly, of course. She ran into no one other than her previous patient, Sasuke. "I'm s-sorry!" She stuttered, as she grabbed her things and placed them back into the tote. She didn't like the stare he was giving her, nor did she like how he didn't seem to do anything to help.

In fact, he looked incredibly amused.

"It's fine." He said coolly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was sent to check up on y-you."

Arched brow, the amusement not leaving his dead-like face. "How about," He used his hand and pushed her lower back forward towards the elevator. "You _don't _go into my house and we go elsewhere farther away." 

It surprised her how someone who fucked up in the mind—even though she had no information regarding that assumption—and looked so bad and unhealthy, could at the same time, be so perfect.

"O-okay."

Tugging her arm as the elevator reached the main floor, he led her with a tight grip, her following behind, to a small coffee shop about three blocks away.

Pulling her down into a chair, he sat across from her with his hands folded, elbows on the table, staring at her with such an intense glare it made her want to fall through the floor or something. She was so awkward, it was ridiculous. Using his hand to get her attention again, he arched a brow as in, "What the fuck do you want?"

"Are you alright?"

She didn't stutter and the only look on her face was of pure concern. She reminded him of his Mom in so many ways. Not that he'd mention her at all, but still, it was there; whether her long indigo hair reflected the similarity Mrs. Uchiha once bared, or how the Hyuuga's eyes were just as big and round as his Mother's, disregarding the fact that Hinata had pale, oddly fluffy white orbs instead of the coal black he was once accustomed to.

"No." He muttered, as he took his third cigarette out his back pocket, and lit it up. Fortunately, no one really bothered to pay attention to him smoking indoors. She gaped at him, biting her lip. "Do you want one or something?"

Ignoring her soft look on her face, he continued to inhale, and exhale, coughing a bit. "Don't you think-"

"Could you stop trying to play nurse? That would save me enough patience as I'm limited just by being around you." He spat. He wasn't in the mood for someone telling him—in this case _suggesting him_ what to do and what not to do. The thing he hated most in life was being told he was doing something wrong.

If he didn't listen to his own brother, what made her think he'd give her the time of day?

"This was clearly a waste of our time." He ran his free hand through his hair, bringing the cig to his lips once more. He loved the smoke that calmed his lungs. He loved how his nostrils flared from after he smoked his dimes a bit earlier. He liked feeling light-headed, he liked having several pulses pierce themselves inside of him.

He liked being high. He liked smoking tobacco while being high. And he liked heroin on top of both. At the same time.

"I don't want to make you think you're being forced into doing anything," She began, confident in her wording. "I'm not your boss and you and I barely even know each other besides primary school. I recognize that. However, I-I don't want you to get ill or to see you in that death bed again. I really hope you feel better soon, or snap out of whatever you're doing that you know is wrong."

Sliding a folded piece of paper across the table, she sighed. "L-like I said, your business is none of mine, but if you ever need anything, feel free to call. And no, I wouldn't go off and tell anyone anything. I just really think that if you keep whatever you have bottled up too long, you'll break."

Getting up, she left the shop with a small, sad smile.

Rolling his eyes as she left, he stubbed the cig against the table, and left shortly after, pulling the hood of his shirt up as it began to pour rain.

His mom loved the rain.

Pushing in the keys into the slot of the apartment, he pushed it open and kicked off his shoes again. He opened the fridge, and pulled out two cans of beer. _This will be a record if I keep it up. _

"Could you hand me one?" Shrugging his shoulders, he gave the other can to his brother who was too busy scrolling his fingers down his laptop's built-in mouse pad, typing away what seemed to have been responses to customers via e-mail. "Thank you, Sasuke."

"Hn." He plopped himself on the couch again, and watched as the rain poured harder through the glass backdoor. It was as if every bit of color outside was drowned by the water. Not that he could complain; he liked dullness.

"Shouldn't you be finding a job?" His older brother muttered, as he brought the opened can to his lips for a chug, placing it back down next to his foot on the dark carpet. "Not saying I don't make enough for both of us or anything. However, you'll get tired of doing nothing if you don't have something to do. Or _someone_, in your case."

Smirking, he shrugged. "Maybe later. You're right about the last part though, I'm sure I can get that part accomplished later tonight." Smirking again, he flicked his finger to open the can, and brought it to his lips, as he dipped his head back and chugged down the whole thing.

He didn't get drunk by one silly can; it took three for that. That's how tolerate he was with alcohol.

"If you're going out again, at least act your age and be discrete when you come back; if you come back." Itachi flicked his rusty red orbs, boring into his younger brother's for a few moments. "Try not to hurt a girl's feelings, either. Not that you honestly can't help that."

"I'm pretty sure the girl who offered herself to me is fine with it." He dug into his clean pocket for the piece of paper, and took out his cellphone and walked out the door with his shoes on without another word, except a huge smirk that could run for miles.

And miles. And miles.

It was a shame. He was only twenty-two.

Author's Note: I like writing this. It makes me feel so much better. I miss _him_, and although this story is more alternated then his actual self, it reflects his story for the most part. Thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I know I'm updating this like crazy, but I need to finish this in two weeks, no later than the day…, yeah.

I hope you guys like this. I know I do.

You're Welcome.

The Hyuuga stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, bringing the covers farther up to her throat. The tiny, white fan blew fresh air silently to her extremely flushed face and sweaty forehead. She felt so _used_. One minute Sasuke knocks on her door, she lets him in, the next he locks the door behind her and corners her to the point where she unfortunately gave in. What was the point into fighting it? I mean yeah, she offered her help to anything—with that said, she never expected him to need help like _that_.

Cheeks burning even more from what had previously occurred last night, she tried not to squirm under the embrace the Uchiha gave her, who was fast asleep, eyes closed, practically on top of her. She started crying. Not that she didn't enjoy herself or anything, but for starters, she barely knew him, he was her fucking _patient_, of all people, and three, it was her first time he managed to steal.

Her tears streamed down her face and she couldn't hold them in anymore. She managed not to make noise to wake him up, but as the ticking of her wall clock ticked louder and louder reading two in the afternoon, the Uchiha groaned, bringing his hands to rub his eyes from discomfort and confusion. After hearing her muffled sobs, he leaned forward to her and nuzzled his head into her neck. "Hey." He used his free hand to wipe them away, he didn't like seeing girls cry, especially over bullshit that wasn't necessarily worth it. In this case, he didn't want to get his morning—sorry, afternoon—ruined by tears.

His other hand twirled strands of her messy bed hair in between his fingers, inhaling the deep lilac scent he was getting extremely addicted to. He began to peck her neck with soft and gentle kisses of reassurance. He figured talking to her would've worsened her sobs and that showing physical emotion was the best way to go.

And it was.

Although the Hyuuga didn't show her immediately reaction—being frightened, evidently—she did feel nice and warm, a feeling she had never actually felt before. His hands traveled around her lips, wherever, actually; awkwardly leaning into her face, he kissed her jaw, and leaned over her body to reach his pants, pulling the half empty Malboro cigarette box from his back pocket along with his lighter.

Pulling the last two out, he sat up, completely sitting up straight as he put the end to his lips and lit it up, giving the lighter to the girl beside him. Rubbing her neck—she had bruises there which made him smirk—she lit hers up as well, copying everything he did with the cigarette.

First, she had sex for the first time.

Second, her first smoke.

Today was all about firsts for the Hyuuga.

"This is disgusting." She moaned as she stubbed hers against her counter and threw it in the garbage can. "Why do you like it so much?"

Twirling it between his fingers, he shrugged. Inhaling the tobacco, he leaned in and kissed her forcefully; letting the smoke he had stored inside fill her mouth. Letting go, he smirked again. "Feels good." He commented. That was all he could think when it came to why he liked it.

He liked how his lungs were probably covered with black shit, he liked how whenever he did it the smoke smelled amazing, he liked how smoking made him feel like awkward in society; a distraction he admittedly over-uses when in an awkward situation with anyone in public. And, he's been smoking for a good portion of his childhood as it was.

He couldn't stop.

I mean, he _could_, but he wouldn't.

Pulling his shirt back on and some pants, he turned to her briefly. "I'll be back tonight." He promised, kissing her neck once more before he buckled his loose skinny jeans and left, running his fingers through his hair.

At least he was returning and wasn't abandoning her completely.

Sighing, the Hyuuga burst into tears once more.

Night to night, morning to morning, for the past three weeks, the Hyuuga became an insomniac. She couldn't sleep due to either using her sleeping hours to fool around with her patient in her home, in her bed, or just from when he had to leave early for whatever the reason of which she'd wait for him to return.

Even so, she was a lot happier. She had focused all her attention on him, and it felt amazing to feel the same back. She fed on his presence, she loved having him around. Biting her lip, she flushed a bit as she locked her locker in the storage room of the hospital.

"Someone seems a bit happier," Ino commented as she ruffled Hinata's head lightly, smiling brightly. "Do tell!"

"It's nothing." She gave her a warm smile. Why did Ino have to know she basically slept with her patient every night and had begun to grow feeling for him? I mean, that wasn't _all _they did. They'd watch pointless movies and cuddle sometimes and eventually he'd tell her brief moments of his life that had scarred him.

Not a lot for her to fully attend to his mental needs, but still, it was a start to trust.

In three weeks of time, she learned a few things.

Sasuke lost both his parents.

Sasuke hated his brother and his father.

Sasuke stopped smoking during those three weeks without even noticing.

Which made her all the more happier. She liked how the purple bags under his eyes were going away slowly, he liked how he regained a bit more color, and he liked how whenever he slept by her side, he got a full night's rest; and when he couldn't be there, he'd get no sleep at all.

So it was a win-win relationship. Even though It was odd how it began, they both needed each other in a way that not many in today's society would understand without being told over and over.

"Is there a reason why you've packed all of your personal belongings?" The elder Uchiha raised a brow, referring to the suitcases that were ready to be taken out the apartment.

"I'm leaving."

"Where?"

"Home." He muttered as he slammed the door shut and left down the elevator.

Home. It took him a long time to even consider it such, and for once, he was glad he figured it out.

_Author's Note: _I will get in so much more detail as to how their relationship is in the next chapter, I promise!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Due to similar problems occurring currently, I figured it was great to use them as an excuse to post the next chapter. I wish some of you would review this, I mean, all I really want is a)To vent using characters that I don't own whatsoever and b)Get criticism, that's what writing is about—to know that someone actually likes what you write or want to point out problems in it.

Regardless.

_**Review please.**_

-brandfuckingnew

You're Welcome.

"I have to go-"He pulled her closer, not releasing her. As much as she wanted to stay in his embrace, she was the one who was bringing money along into the house, and she couldn't just not go to work. She was to help people; it was her occupation, her purpose.

"Stay." He briefly muttered. His fingers went back up her shirt, to her surprise. He used his thumb and rubbed her lower back gently.

"I'll call in sick." _Again_. It had been a week now since she had actually went back to work. She stopped going because of _him_, whether she liked to fully admit it or not. Maybe she should just quit. She could get another job close by, she could get a part time job, it's not like she didn't have savings.

And it's not like Sasuke was poor, which he wasn't.

Far from that term.

"Come with me." She whined. She lost any sense of stutter around him. She felt completely comfortable just by being next to him. They didn't even have to say anything, and she'd be fine with it. Someone who shared the same disinterest into directing speaking was what she needed, in this case, being him.

He was also ruining her at the same time.

"Sasu-" She was so cute, already giving him small names. Not that he cared, or minded. He liked hearing her basically call out his name.

Especially during-

"Ah." Getting up, he pulled out some jeans from his suitcase and a random sweater and shirt and swiftly grabbed his towel all at the same speed as he closed the door behind him and turned on the shower.

She didn't even have to ask. He would do anything she asked him too.

She didn't put on her uniform, she let her recently washed, damp hair hang to her shoulder, a light sweater and some jeans fitting her fine as she held hands with the Uchiha down the streets. Both walking at a steady pace, no real care for all the stares they were receiving.

"_He's so cute."_

"_Damn."_

"_They're both cute."_

At this point, it was just annoying. Then again, it was something to get used to.

Walking into the air conditioned hospital, she walked over—tightening her hold onto his hand—towards her boss, Dr. Hatake's, office. Within a few moments the door was already swung open, an arched brow on the man who enjoyed covering his face with his mask.

It was best she didn't know what he looked like; his covered expression was good enough for her nerves.

"Ah, Hinata!" His sarcasm was a bit too obvious. "Your uniform?"

"I'm q-quitting." For some reason, the Uchiha glared at her. He hated her stutter.

"A shock." He murmured. "I have patients to attend. Collect your things and what not. Hope to see you soon." Staring at him blankly with a flush on her cheeks, she nodded feebly, wondering if he had meant for her to either return to attending people or for her to actually somehow get ill to have to come down here again.

Sighing, she grabbed his hand again and walked over to get her things.

The one passion she once had for others had vanished. She only cared for one other person anymore.

"You want to get _what?_" She dropped her almost done dango onto her plate, glaring at her significant other who was comfortably lying down on the carpet, elbows holding him up, occasionally throwing her glances as he continued to watch the news.

"I don't have to repeat myself."

"Of?" She couldn't wrap her mind around it. Getting ink work, really? She would've expected him to suggest something but getting something permanent done to one's body. She sighed.

"Words." He grabbed her arm and pulled her down off the couch, her falling on top of him. He smirked. "It'll be one at a time. It won't be all at once. I'm sure you'll be alright getting matching ones?" 

"But-" He pulled her hair gently for her to press her lips against his, shutting her up. It was decided. They'd get matching tattoos. She had no idea what she wanted, she just let him decide what to get done.

_Author's Note: This chapter sucks. But I have everything else prepared ,so I will post that one along with this one as well, because my due date is coming up and I want to finish it._

_Review please!_

_-brandfuckingnew_


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Okay so like I tried to make this as long as possible because the last chapter was short and sucked for this very reason.

Yeah.

Review.

~brandfuckingnew

You're Welcome.

The timid indigo-haired woman was shaking uncontrollably as she bit her lip a bit tighter, shifting in the leather chair that had her facing the ceiling. The room itself was a rusty red, ink in thousands of bottles surrounding the chair, the Uchiha sitting across from her, covering his arm with a towel. She was getting hers now, as he had already gotten his done. The lamps were dull, yet bright enough to make you feel uneasy. She was nervous, obviously. The Uchiha rolled his eyes. Framed sketches and drawings hung onto the walls, making it look less roomy then it actually was. She was _definitely _not ready for this, not to mention she had no idea what the silent Uchiha was even making her get on _her_ body.

"Maybe I should-"

"No." He looked amused. This upset her even more. "If it was dangerous, I wouldn't have brought you here. It's just one word at a time, you'll be fine." He was teasing her, she knew it. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she sighed. It wasn't her fault she was feeling queasy.

By the time the guy returned with the needle and necessary ink, Hinata turned her head away, not looking at the tattoo artist, nor at her arm. She winced when the needle pressed against her skin, but it wasn't as bad as she had imagined it to be. She felt the heat of the ink hit her, and she bit her lip. It was just a word at a time, he said.

"Now, now," The familiar male muttered with a sly grin. "Don't fidget, I'm almost done…" Using his thumb to press against her arm, he swiftly moved the needle one last time and then released her arm. "…there. Done." He grinned. "Oh, hey, Hinata!"

She wanted to fall into a hole or something. It was no one other than her ex and best friend who she had distanced from since they had stopped dating , Kiba. His tattooed red stripes on both of his strong cheekbones were too familiar. Yeah, she had no idea he had pursued the art of tattoos.

Akamaru's barking from the other room also made sense. She gulped. "H-hey." There had been a reason they haven't spoken for so long. It had been two legitimate years since, well, they communicated. A huge argument that basically ruined whatever was left of their relationship as human beings. She wondered why she didn't see his last name on the sign of the parlor in the first place.

She could've avoided this awkward encounter.

Even so, she was happy. She did miss him. Although she was over everything they once had, she missed their strong friendship. She missed going out with him with their other friend who was too caught up in his bugs, Shino. She missed going to the movies with them, she missed the little things friends in high school usually did.

Raising his ink gun, he pulled the small table with wheels to his chest and placed all of his tools down, bringing a damp cloth to her arm, and tightened it with precautions of not actually hurting her. She was fragile, after all. "I didn't know you liked tatts." He snickered. "It's been awhile."

"Um, well," She nudged the cloth with her other arm and pressed down. It was still extremely warm. "I guess. And it has! W-we should-"

At this point she was extremely irritated at being cut off every time she spoke. Maybe it was best she didn't speak at all! "Are you free for the day? We could get some coffee and catch up..." He insisted, with those dog like, puppy-dog eyes. It's as though the Hyuuga completely disregarded both the pain on her arm as well as her boyfriend sitting in the chair behind the dog-like male with a huge frown on his beautiful face.

Coffee couldn't hurt…

"Yeah." She said with a small smile. "We're free." The Uchiha's eyebrows furrowed. Was she seriously including him into this?

"No, you go; I'll meet you at home." The pale and thin man got up from his awkward position in the metal chair and shrugged. "It's fine." He chewed on his cheek as the guy with the sleeveless hoodie continued to talk to her about almost everything, ignoring what he had just announced.

"See, he's cool with it!" Kiba grinned. "Let's go, I'll just close up early, you guys were the only people who came all day." Snatching his keys, he took her hand and let her out the backdoor, locking it behind him.

By then, the Uchiha left through the front, locking it as well, and headed down a few blocks.

He needed a smoke, bad.

xxxxxxx

"Oi, Sasuke! Haven't seen you in a while!" The toothy male with short, gray-white hair grinned. His teeth were as sharp as those of a shark, and he had a huge dagger dangling on his back, wrapped securely with the tip covered to prevent injuring himself. "The usual?"

Luckily, the street was free of any nearby street-life, and the guy known as Suigetsu grinned, pulling out a small white box from one of his larger pockets. Sasuke just leaned forward and snatched it, replacing the dealer's empty hand with rolls of cash. Smirking, the dealer chuckled. "What took you so long? You're my only customer who buys this shit. I thought I spent my cash for nothing, thinkin' of you."

"Hn." Walking from the corner with the box in his coat, he walked home, the word "Irritated" clearly printed on his forehead.

Why would she do that to him? Why go with your _ex_ and leave your current guy behind? It didn't matter if he knew she wouldn't dare do anything to potentially hurt him in any shape or form, but the fact that she simply gave in to that guy and disregarded the fact that she had another waiting for her made him upset.

The fact that they originally planned to get the first words inked on their opposite arms, and now this?

You can't just do that. There are some rules you just can't break. In this case, she was the one who broke it without even knowing.

Maybe she _didn't _know. After all, the Uchiha never really showed any emotions to begin with. It would be understandable and he would forgive her for not noticing. Even so, you must be blind to just assume Sasuke was the easy guy who you could easily leave for another even if it was only for a few hours or so.

No. Big. Deal.

Plopping himself onto their couch, he pulled out the new box and smirked to himself. It had been quite some time since he had used needles. Not to mention, how much of an effort it was to not buy a new box sooner. Since he had been dating her, she had distracted him from any necessity to going to drugs for comfort.

With that being said, with the mental state of mind he was in—the mood to commit homicide to a certain individual—it was best to pretend that it never happened and go back to old habits.

Was all that time he hadn't been getting high or injecting heroin into his rejuvenated arms a waste?

Was he really going to go back to the old life he had? Did he really want to reside into a hospital bed and see her crying? Hurting? He knew very well how much she cared for him, same vise-versa.

Even so, he was a fucking adult. He doesn't need anyone telling him what he can and can't do. He could do anything. It was the disappoint in her eyes he was afraid of.

Not that he would admit that. Uchihas weren't ones to fear. Uchihas were strong people, who never showed true emotions.

Emotions were for the weak.

So why did he feel like crying, now that he was completely alone?

Shaking his head at the thought of becoming weak for a few moments, he brought the clean needle with the drugs to his other arm, avoiding the fresh ink on his other, he winced when he felt the cool liquid get into his skin.

He loved drugs. He loved heroin.

He also loved Hinata.

If given the choice, he wasn't sure which "H" he would pick.

What a shame.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: I really liked this chapter.

If I can pass over 40+ reviews that aren't just two words, that would be great.

-brandfuckingnew

You're Welcome.

The Uchiha massaged his temples with his fingers, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to balance his thoughts, as well as his vision. He twirled the empty bottle of vodka in his free palm and just stared as the text on the can began to mix letters out of order. Instead of the brand reading "Smirnoff", the letters began to read "Fuck off" to him. He frowned. Even a glass bottle didn't want him. He thought long and hard as to how he was supposed to approach the Hyuuga.

How he was supposed to say how he left without the words "You hurt me" escape his lips.

Regardless, he had enough time to deal with her. He couldn't at the moment, not when he was at an expensive diner, sitting across from his older brother in a bright red leather booth. He blinked twice as he remembered the fact that his brother was here. "Why am I here?" He asked, more to himself than to him.

"I wanted to talk some sense into your oblivious skull." The creases on Itachi's firm yet handsome face got a bit longer as he stared down into his coffee, stirring it with his spoon. He didn't add any sugar, just like his younger sibling, he hated anything sweet.

"Whatever I'm doing is none of your fucking business."

"Do you suggest that it's none of that girl's as well?"

Silence.

"Why the fuck do you care? Are you afraid of some scandal?" His words got more venomous; the youngest self-consciously scratched his arms and his neck. He felt quizzy, and the sight of the lunch arriving to their table didn't help how fast his stomach was churning. He felt like if he was going to vomit, he'd make it just enough to vomit on him. He hated his brother.

"Brothers are supposed to care about anything, and everything, concerning their brothers." Itachi cleared his throat as he brought the mug to his lips and gulped twice. Putting the beige mug down, he sighed, uneasy. "You're young, take advantage of it. Don't…" He chewed his lip fast, "…fuck it up."

It was rare for Itachi to use such vulgar language, but he figured speaking his little brother's slang would break some sense into him. He didn't like how he did so much unhealthy things. He hated how paranoid his brother seemed, how his eyes were so stained with agony. He hated seeing those dark, purple rings under his eyes. He hated how he got so much more sick-white pale. He didn't like how he twitched a lot.

He didn't like how different his brother had become.

"Hey," Sasuke called the flirtatious waitress again, with a flick of his finger. "I want a beer. Doesn't matter which."

"We don't have beer?" She muttered, confused, twirling a strand of her hair with her finger innocently. "We're a diner…not a bar."

"Fuck you. Get out my face." He snarled, annoyed. He hated everyone now. He twitched when he heard her muffle a soft murmur along the lines of 'Douche' and he scratched his face again.

"Sasuke…" Itachi gained his attention again, staring at his brother. "You have to stop before…"

Sasuke's eyes got a bit wide, and he stared. And stared, just as Itachi had done not moments before. "Are you fucking serious? Before I _what_." He snapped. He got up, inching closer to his brother's face from across the table. "You never asked me _shit _before. You let me go. And yeah, I'm here now, but I doubt I'll last. I fucking hate your fucking guts. You're scum to me. Just like Dad. Fuck you and fuck him."

It was as if his older brother slapped in in the fucking face with a "You're fucking insane, get some help" gesture. He hated his older brother.

He slammed his back against the cold leather of the booth and stared at him, ignoring the glares from everyone else in the diner. The waitress was too nervous approach them again.

"I just really hate you." He scratched his neck and pulled out a fresh, new box of Malboro from his pocket. No one bothered to go up to him and tell him smoking was not permitted; he didn't really give a damn at this point. He brought out his lighter and lit up his cig. Bringing it to his lips, he let the poison-like air into his lungs, releasing it through his nostrils for a brief moment before holding the cig in between his fingers, his elbow on the table. "You're very late."

"Understandable." He wouldn't apologize, Uchihas had too much damn pride. Not to mention, he just couldn't say 'Sorry'. That was not in Itachi's vocabulary, and he managed to keep it that way for his whole life. He never apologized to anyone. Not even his parents.

No one needed a word to comfort them. He didn't comfort anyone. Except if dealt with his brother. Then he would. But at this point in time, he just couldn't bring himself to say the word. Sasuke nodded with a roll of his eyes, bringing his cig back to his lips.

"I know." He gestured with his other hand, scratching his neck, his eye twitching. "I'm a fucking mess. I'm aware. You know if I could, I would stop. But I can't." He smirked to himself as he dipped his cig into his glass cup of iced water. He dropped it into his cup, and brought it to his lips as he chugged in the disgusting experiment he considered tolerable to drink. "Let's not forget who got me into this in the first place." 

Right. Itachi did. After their "Dad" left.

He vaguely remembered that day, and was in the least bit proud of his actions. He was responsible for his little brother being a fuck-up. He recognized it.

But what made his little brother not want to get help? He didn't understand. He had a girl who he assumed he cared for very much, and from when the looks of it she feels the same. He didn't have a job, but that was because being an inheritor of their rich families helped him out. It's not like he was unattractive, he could get anything his way with his looks—even if he did look ill, he still had his face as a shield.

He had the life that he never had when he was his age.

Putting his life into his occupation was all he did. Why didn't Sasuke embrace what was practically given down to him whenever he really wanted?

Frustrated at this point, he let out a low sigh. He parted his mouth to say something, and then shut it. Was he supposed to apologize at this time? It was too late for that. Sasuke wasn't waiting. 

He refused to wait.

And that's expected. He expected no less from his dearest and only little brother. Which is why deep down, it scared the living shit out of him when he was first sent to the hospital. And the first time, yes, he was afraid. He was in a coma for two days, two days he took off from his busy job as the president of his entire corporation, cancelled all flights for business gatherings, lunches, brunches, dinners, everything.

For his brother.

And after that, yes, he gained distractions. His was given his first beer at sixteen, by Itachi. Itachi was given it from a party. He didn't want it, assuming Sasuke did. Gave it to him, no problem.

His drinking started that early.

Smoking, however, took his own time. Sasuke had connections, connections he wasn't at all proud of. He went out a lot, the typical teenager who had all the freedom in the world. Freedom he constantly abused hanging out with Suigetsu, since high school. He had done practically all of the drugs most teenagers do nowadays.

Ecstasy, weed (obviously), plenty of pills he couldn't even list without forgetting a few, heroin…

But no matter what he did, heroin was his favorite.

If he ever took a blood test, he was pretty sure half of his blood stream was heroin. He would admit it, and he made it obvious. What he loved the most was smoking cigs, heroin, and drinking, all at the same time. Eyedrops were easy, used and went through hundreds of those tiny bottles at school during his four years and not once was he asked otherwise.

Not once did anyone actually take the time to ask him. If he was asked, he would've admitted.

_Maybe someone would care if I did this. _He would think. But they didn't. No one cared. So he did more and more. And that's where Sasuke went wrong. He cared too much about what people would say. He wanted to make people speak to him and tell him to stop. He wanted to stop, and he would, if only someone had noticed in time.

And they didn't.

So he admitted the first time. He grabbed some rope from his backyard, and went for it. He practically lunged himself from his ceiling, and when Itachi found him, that's when he knew his brother was insane.

Was it the abandonment from his Dad, and the death of his poor mother?

No. None of them "died". They just _left_, like that. Within a blink of his tiny five year old self's eyes. He hasn't seen them since he was five.

And it's not like he was torn when it first happened. Given the fact that he barely was aware of all the constant problems his older brother had to deal with growing up, he thought his life was grand. Rich parents, expensive clothing, nice toys, everything. He was given everything, and for some odd reason, the twenty-three year old was suddenly aware of what he lost and was now suffering over it.

Itachi probably over-analyzed the whole situation all too much, but in truth, what was his little brother getting at?

Why was he even upset? Why couldn't he move on like his older brother? Itachi dealt with their shit, and look at him—head of his own company, at twenty-eight years old. He was successful for not caring.

Sasuke was a fuck-up _for_ caring.

Sighing, Itachi stared at his brother who looked so upset it was ridiculous. Sasuke scratched his neck again. And again. And _again_.

"Stop." He hadn't even touched his food. He lost his appetite just looking at his brother. "Think of what you could do to that girl. You already have her; don't fuck her over like Fugaku. Don't be like him, of all people. Don't."

To Itachi, his Father was scum. The true definition; his ugly face and his disgusting gums that hung too low on his old, wrinkly face, was probably plastered right under the definition in the fucking dictionary. Itachi most likely belonged right next to his dad in that sense. He was a dick. He was horrible, but his father, was worse.

Leaving his stunned and confused younger brother at the table below after dropping a fifty on the table, he left the diner without turning back.

Hopefully this chat did his brother something well. Hopefully he would change. Hopefully he wouldn't have to get another phonecall from the hospital anytime soon.

He was just hoping. That was all he had, hope. It wouldn't last, he was sure of it. He was already aware of how much faith he was losing in his "religion". Sasuke needed help, but not from him. He couldn't give him what he needed. At this point, he only imagined that girl he has been around with for some short amount of time could.

He hoped.

**Author's Note: God, I felt like I poured my heart into this chapter. My deadline is coming up, and I've been writing what I wanted. If I don't meet my "deadline", which if you actually read my A/N in the first chapters, you'd know who I'm writing this mainly for. I probably won't finish by then, but that chapter for that date will certainly be the best.**

**Anyway, the song "Brothers" by Defeater is what I assumed was appropriate for this chapter. That and they are an amazing band and yeah, check them out. :)) **

**Anyway (again), REVIEW PLEASE! I would love to have over fifty reviews if not more?**

**Yeah.**

**I'll stop.**

**-brandfuckingnew **


	8. Chapter 8

You're Welcome.

He ran his fingers quickly through his short, naturally spiky black hair as he continued his trail towards the staircase of the apartment instead of taking the elevator. He needed time to think, and he needed a smoke. He pulled out another cigarette as he quickly walked up each step, flickering his lighter at the end and bringing it to his moist lips. Letting the fume into his lungs, he quickly released it out outwards, not even stopping his movement. His legs were hurting from just moving so fast, and his head was spinning. He didn't know what was triggering it, whether his older brother's words, or how much he missed Hinata.

He hated his brother.

He hated having pity from him, and how much he blamed himself for _his _actions. Everything happens for a reason. Sasuke was meant to do what he does. And he can't really help when he does it. And he doesn't want to stop. And no one should try to stop him, because than he wouldn't be the Sasuke everyone was used to.

He wouldn't be the "Sasuke" who was in the hospital because of his problems, and most importantly, he wouldn't have met her if not for drugs altogether.

In a sense, he thanked his brother for not stopping him. Because if he did, he wouldn't have what he had right now. And what he had right now was way more addicting than a piece of rolled up paper. Even though he tried not to show it. Which killed him, because he wished he _could _show her everything she deserved. He wished he could be the one to openly tell her sweet things, and take her on dates; well he _could_, but that was completely out of character for him.

She fit because she never tried to say anything that would hurt him. She never tried to say her opinion, she would just listen. And talk when he asked her to. And she would listen to his stories, and she would get up and grab his hand and tighten it, because she couldn't hug him, he wouldn't like it, she knew he didn't.

She would sit right next to him and if he was ready he'd tell her more. For now, he wasn't completely open, and he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to be. She had all the patience in the world and that's exactly what he needed. He needed someone who could just sit there and say absolutely nothing and still make him think everything was okay. Because in reality, it wasn't, and just looking into her white, silky eyes told him it was.

The way her hair framed her heart-shaped face, the way her bangs hovered above her thin and perfectly plucked eyebrows, the way her cheeks lit up whenever he got too close, or for once commented on her appearance, no matter what he did, her cheeks would give off a light pink blush. And depending on what he did, it'd get a whole new layer darker, and so forth.

Her smile was genuine, too. He loved her smile. He loved how they can vary; there were small smiles when she didn't want to embarrass him by smiling to him so she'd hide it for him, or those big smiles when she showed her perfect teeth and he was pretty sure she never had braces which brings him back to the completely true statement that she was in fact perfect. Or how sometimes after they had sex, her hair would get really curly from the tips and she always looked like she was going to cry from embarrassment and she'd put it into a bun and he'd just tug it back down, telling her "Stop, you're beautiful."

And he would make her feel better and more secure. Because in all honesty, she had nothing to be insecure about.

Which was why he was afraid of losing her.

It's not everyday someone suddenly appears in your life during your toughest times, and suddenly you have meaning to wake up and not want to kill yourself. It's not every day that she would go to your house looking for you and offering you a hand without thinking of it as a job.

As a favor. As someone who truly cared, and even then, she did.

And at first, he tried to use her. He didn't care. He tried not to—no, he _pretended_ not to. And obviously, that failed as well. He just couldn't do it, and he didn't. Having her in his arms was the best feeling in the world, and he wasn't the type to never get out there and get laid, because he was the type to just call random girls for a night-stand and what not, but she was different.

She was hesitant at first but knew why he did it, why he had knocked on her door the first time and she knew that if he didn't, he would've been back in that hospital, or probably fucking someone else. Either or scared her. Either outcome would've made things worse. So she gave in, and didn't speak, and just let him do all the work, because she had no idea what to even do, being her first time and all.

She didn't think that was relevant, it was obvious he was the dominant, and after the first time, they just kept at it. They kept doing what they did that night, only things changed, for the better. Progress. That's what happened, exactly.

Sometimes he'd get some coffee and just walk inside because she never locked her door during the day because he was the only one who knew her address and would sit on the couch with said coffee and would give her order to her and she'd give him a small, grateful smile and that was enough.

Sometimes, anything was enough in life.

He would go to her apartment irritated, and she wouldn't ask what happened. He'd usually yell it during their sex. He'd slam his hands onto her walls whenever he just bluntly fucked her. Sometimes, he hurt her. She never really thought that was relevant. It wasn't the "You hurt me, I hate you" way. It felt _nice_. He never did it on purpose, she understood.

Which is what I guess all people don't fully understand. Some people were made to be destructive, in the mind and in the soul. And others, were meant to cure that, to be able to let them be the flashlight during those tough thunderstorms where everything would be eerie and quiet and you'd be blind without that light.

Without that comfort.

There was once a few weeks ago, he didn't go to her apartment, and she had been worried. She cooked his favorite meal, she didn't even have to ask, he would mutter it whenever he was asleep. He suffered from insomnia the majority of the time, except when he was over. But this time, he didn't arrive.

And she didn't know what to do. She didn't want to assume he left her for good, and knew what he was doing was stupid. She didn't want to think too negatively about it, otherwise she'd just get hurt and start crying and she hated crying, more than anything.

Tears were for the weak, and she was better than that. Hiashi wouldn't be proud. Neji would be used to her tears by now, and he wouldn't be surprised if she had called him sniffling through the phone cord, her eyes damp and red, and she'd just hold in the lump in her throat while he would tell her that whatever she was going through would pass.

And Hanabi, her little sister, would be the only one who didn't care altogether. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't. Majority of the time, she just never picked up.

Her family was as dysfunctional as Sasuke's. They both understood the hardships of abandonment, neglect, and most importantly, how it felt to dishonor the ones you loved.

So that's why they both knew what to say and when to say it, even when they rarely said anything at all.

And that night, he _did _come home.

_Home_. A foreign word for the Uchiha. Why she thought of that word over all others, she didn't know. He had walked in, locked the door behind him, and would eat the foot she had in the microwave, well prepared, and packaged in case he wanted it for later, anything. She was two steps ahead.

He was never used to her kindness, it took him a short amount of time to be accustomed to her small squeaks, to her smiles, to her blushes, to her heart. She had opened it for him and he gladly took it, giving in return what was left of his broken one.

How corny, yet true.

Any thoughts of making her sad killed him. He wanted nothing of that. Ever. He never wanted her to leave him, and he never wanted her to be without him. He wanted to be there for whenever she needed him, for better, and for the worse, and he was prepared to stand by it.

Maybe he could go back to the hospital and ask for a re-fill, he did sort of throw his away, and never took a single pill. Maybe pills did help those in need. Maybe that's exactly what he needed, pills. Not weed, or heroin, or alcohol, or cigs. He didn't want to need them any longer. Not when he was around her. He didn't want her to see him kill himself slowly day by day, and he didn't want her to think it was okay to do all four, he didn't want her to try and copy him and do the same.

After seeing her smoke a cigarette after their first time, he wanted to vomit. His stomach was churning, and he didn't know why exactly he pissed him off so much. He didn't want her to poison anything on her perfect body.

Except the ink work, that was okay.

But anything else, he wouldn't permit. She didn't seem to like the cig anyway. She'd be fine. She seems like a clean person, a person who most likely has a special reason as to why she hates all of those things. Opposites do attract, after all.

Which is why he was hoping she was upstairs in the apartment, and that her mutt of an ex-boyfriend—emphasize on _ex_—was gone and gone for good.

He was replaced; he couldn't just come back into her life. That's not how things are supposed to function in life. Change is good, going back to the old and same shit just wasn't right. It made no sense to him. The Uchiha already had plans for the future with both of them and he sure as fuck wasn't going to let some guy who smells like ink and dog shit ruin it.

That's not how things worked.

Un-locking the door with his spare key, he shuffled his shoes off and locked the door behind him. It was quiet, no booming voice within a three mile radius. He was pleased.

And he found her in the living room farther down the hall, munching on some popcorn, legs raised to her face, the bowl right next to her on the couch. Her eyes were intensely focused on an old Audrey Hepburn film, and he noticed how the lights in that area of the huge loft were dimmed down.

"Hey." His voice—as he made it to come out a bit more calmer—startled her a bit, and she turned around and smiled. He missed her smile. It had only been an afternoon without her and he was glad he could have her alone and that Kiba was nowhere in sight.

That he finally learned his place and backed off.

He then saw her face drop, a small, sad smile. She had completely ignored the television, felt a pain in his ribs just staring at her, her eyes a bit watery. What was wrong? What did he do? If anything, _he _**should** be upset at _her_.

But he could never be upset at her. He could never bring himself to hate her for any stupid reason.

"What is it?"

"You…" She bit her lip, her gaze meeting her toes. "You smell like smoke."

"Oh." Was she really upset he had a few cigs? It had been awhile since he had one, why was it a big deal now? Was she really upset over that? He had come home so happy to see her, all anger caused by his stupid elder brother vanished because of the mere thought of having her alone again and she gets angry?

He was getting tired of this constant bullshit. Why did it matter if he smoked? It was just a few. Now that she was here he probably wouldn't buy a new pack or anything or bottles or stashes for a while. She made that much of an impact on his well being.

She parted her mouth but closed them as quick as she had them opened. She turned back to the screen, and grabbed a piece of popcorn, and threw it at him without looking back at him.

Due to her lack of hand coordination, it only hit the floor and was above seven inches away from his left foot, so she didn't really get much out of that. He jumped the couch and plopped himself next to her, and she didn't turn her head.

"I won't do it again."

It came out hollow, low, yet clear enough for her head to perk up at him and for her to pull him by the collar with tears sliding down her cheeks and for her to kiss him and for her to just not let him go. It surprised him how much it bothered her, of all things he would've assumed just coming home late would make her upset.

It just signified that she really did care for him and that she put him above all else.

It was refreshing.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, nuzzling her chin onto his shoulder. It was an awkward position, but he liked it. It was nice to be able to change it up a bit, position wise, anyway. He found himself pulling her from the waist into his lap and she didn't really move her chin. They just sat there in silence.

"The movie's not very interesting…"

"I'm sure there's something better on…"

"Would you rather see something else in person?"

Before they knew it, both had chased one another to their room.

_Author's Note: I am so proud of this chapter and it makes me sad because I hate writing this now with the "deadline" coming up and all but I promised myself that now I'll just write when I can. Review please. :)_

_Song that fits this chapter: I Don't Mind by Defeater._


	9. Chapter 9

You're Welcome.

She gripped the small bag tightly in her right hand as he held her other one tighter. He could feel his heart swell up in his chest, his ribs aching again. He was extremely tempted to just head back on the trail and ditch this shit. He was tempted to get out his extra pack of cigs he kept safe in his back pocket. He hadn't smoked in two months now.

Two. Months.

And unfortunately he didn't know why he brought her here with him, when it was usually just him and Itachi who would go here together to wish their respects and would leave, like normal adults. But no. He brought her, because he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it.

Today, was the anniversary of Uchiha Mikoto's death. Today, was the day when it was really cold outside and so he had given her his coat instead of letting her walk out with a simple sweater. The November breeze brought chills up his spine, and he dug his fists into his hoodie and just kept them there.

He wasn't cold in the sense that his body temperature was a bit off. The only coldness that was giving off by him was the coldest from his heart and how empty he felt just standing there, in the front of his Mother's tombstone. He didn't like going to cemeteries. They quite frankly creped him out. Not only that but he hated seeing his significant other—the term 'girlfriend' was so overused—standing right beside him, tugging at his arm and giving him her warm eyes for comfort of some sort.

But he just couldn't accept it. He just stood there and stared at the grave and no words came out. He had written letters to try to figure what he would say. It's been years. He didn't know _what _to say. He just gave her a glance from the corner of his eye with an "It's fine" look.

But it wasn't fine. It was far from it. He just wanted to push her off of him and wanted to take a smoke and sit on someone else's grave and laugh at how pathetic his life was. If anyone deserved to be under ground and into a grave, it was him.

"Sasu-"

"I'm fine." He muttered. He just stared at his Mom's name engraved into the stone. _Uchiha Mikoto_. He didn't know what was worse, the fact that not even the polar-orbed woman could give him strength to endure another second staring at the grave, or the fact that he wanted to cry.

Uchiha men did not cry.

But that look she was giving him, she was giving him that "If you need to, do it" look. The look he really needed because at this point he could already feel something in both of his eyes and he really wanted to shrug it off as allergies to the coldness or just how long he didn't blink by just staring at her stone but he just sighed and let them fall.

He hasn't cried since he lost her. He didn't want to cry again and lose another. He didn't like feeling weak, and the weather as it got more cold and as the leaves kept on brushing his legs and how he felt a breeze hit his warm, rosy cheeks on his pale profile just didn't feel right. He wasn't used to _feeling_. He wasn't used to showing weakness to another person.

She went for his hand and squeezed it lightly.

God, how he loved her.

She knew exactly what to do and what she did do was just not speak. She just gave him that warmth in his hands that just told you that nothing could ever and would ever hurt you again. And that no matter how much pain you feel, that it's temporal. And that his Mom was most likely alright, and that he shouldn't have to feel weak to showing her in "her" face that he missed her, because it was quite evident from that start.

He wasn't sure how long he was standing in front of the stone before sitting down on the cold ground and bringing her down into his warm lap. He didn't want her to get colder. He could already feel her shaking, just sitting on his lap, a slight blush on her cheeks.

Refreshing.

She had tucked the small flowers she brought for this rare occasion and set them to the side of the grave. Apparently, his older brother had already done this earlier; there were two red roses on the right. He probably got up early. He probably didn't want to disturb his younger brother, which was understandable and smart on his part.

And they both just sat there, until he reached to cup her face and then pull a strand of her hair out of her bun until he pulled the rest out and let the wind blow strands everywhere. He hated her buns. And he had shown it on numerous occasions.

"It looks better down." He twirled the tips of her hair and then tucked one part behind her rosy ears. She really was freezing. But he couldn't bring himself to take her home and leave just yet, they had just arrived.

"Can I-" He saw that sad look in her eyes, and she sighed, and nodded weakly. He just broke two months of being clean. Because of his fucking Mom.

With a lift of his finger he brought her face to meet his and kissed her, hopefully to keep her chapped lips warm as well as to tell her that it was only this one time and he would never do it again. And to show her how much he appreciated her being there for everything and for just understanding, which was more than enough for him.

He loved her.

Giving him a small, soft smile, and turned her head around so that he could have his smoke without it getting into her face. She hated the smell of smoke. It was repulsive. But if it helped him for this one time, then why not let him?

It's not like he's addicted to it. He could stop whenever he wanted to. He stopped for two whole months, and that enough showed dedication.

Taking out his new pack, he grabbed one cig and brought it to his frozen lips. Hoping it would go away with a few inhales and what not, his lighter lit up his cig and the rest was history.

The warmth he felt deep in his throat was making him insane. He fucking adored it. He missed it. He _longed_ it. It's been too long, and it's sad how it'll be his last.

Unless he snuck when she wasn't around and smoked all day. He really missed those rare occasions when he didn't have much to do but smoke and it made him feel satisfied. But what would she think of him? Would she leave him for lying?

Not unless he kept it from her…

He could. And he would, decision final.

"Um." She shook his sleeve and brought him back to reality. Right. It was raining. How didn't he notice or feel drops of water fall onto his scalp. "That's okay! I brought one." Suggesting him to stop trying to take off his hoodie to give it to her, she brought out a huge black umbrella, and opened it to shield them both.

He really did love her. Maybe lying wouldn't be necessary…

Throwing the cigarette at his Mom's grave because suddenly he stopped "feeling", he left gripping her shoulder, and carried the umbrella over them the rest of the day.

He didn't want to be around the tomb that drove him insane. He would much rather experiment with his girlfriend to get his mind off of things. The things he wanted to do to her were running all threw his mind, and he just couldn't wait to try some of them.

Turned out, the weather decided to fuck up with the Uchiha's mental state of mine as it continued to pour harder and louder against the ceiling of the apartment. Perhaps being on the top floor wasn't the wisest choice. Irritated, he turned off the television and locked the door as well as opening the binds to the huge balcony glass doors to just stare at the pouring rain.

It had been months since it last rained, and his Mom liked the rain.

His Mom. Why was she always on his mind? He didn't like it. He didn't want her to think he missed her. Well actually, he did, but he didn't want her to think from where she was that he was being such a baby about it. He was a grown man. He should act his age, not his shoe size.

Thinking back to his previous plans since the small visit he paid her, he crept down the hall into the bedroom to find Hinata curled into a ball, still in her four layers of sweaters, sleeping.

He didn't want to wake her up, but he couldn't resist. He climbed into the bed and shook her lightly enough to make her yawn and blink a few times to find herself right under him.

Her reaction could've been a lot worse.

"Hey." He leaned in and kissed her, leaving her breathless. He liked when she squeaked and when she tried to push him but he just didn't want to fight her over this anymore. He really just wanted her to drop her arms or wrap around his neck to bring him closer—which she eventually did—and just continue his way of doing things.

His way was basically the only way they did it. She never really had the need to start it off. He was dominant.

He went for her neck and started to leave a trail of kisses down to her throat, and eventually brought out his teeth and bit and sucked at her flesh. She gasped a bit in the beginning, and eventually just let out muffled sounds of pleasure. He really liked all of her sounds. He wondered of the rest he had yet to cause to erupt from her lips.

Tugging and biting her skin, leaving some saliva on the wet marks as they began to turn a faintish purple, and re-joined her lips once more, less passionate and more emotionless than ever. He tugged the zipper of her coats and removed them all one by one, in less than a minute. He wanted to take advantage of the weather and the thunder to just let her scream _his _name and no one else's.

Already leaving her in her bra and tugging her pants lightly, he could see her hands slide back to her pants and tugged them back up. Confused, he looked at her, licking his lips. "What?"

Moving her fingers together, her cheeks turned into another layer of red. "I'm t-tired…"

"You've been sleeping since we got home." He deadpanned. Was she really going to lie to him to his face like that?

"I don't want to…" Ignoring her calls, he began to pull off his hoodie, dumping it into the pile of clothing on the floor.

"Hinata." He muttered as he began to lead kisses down from her collarbones—tugging more skin here and there—to the space in between her breasts. "Let me." He began to grip her hips, and kiss up to her stomach and below. "Please."

"Ano…" Not knowing how to respond as he pulled down her sweats—he hadn't noticed she changed—and tugged roughly at her panties. Was he about to do what she thought ? "Sasuke I don't-"

Before he could let her finish, he already spread her legs with her gasping as he began to pull her womanhood closer to his face as he began to eat her out. Tonight was going to be dedicated to making her feel good, as he would enjoy it as well.

Tonight, his only main goal was to find all her "special spots" and to know what she liked done to her and what she didn't like. So far, she had no complaints. Carving scratches with her fingernails into his already bare back, she let out a soft yet way too loud cry as she had reached her climax.

He gladly ate it all up.

Eating her out was more pleasant that he initially anticipated it to be. Crawling over her, he kissed her took one into his mouth, and used his free hand to twist the other.

They had it been doing that for the rest of the night.

Nuzzling his head into her neck as he brought the covers up, he wrapped his arms around her tiny yet firm waist and brought her back against his chest, trying to close his eyes and resist the urge to twitch or flinch due to how loud the thunder was.

It didn't stop raining that night.

_Author's note: Yeah, I changed the rating to my story. Um, May 26__th__, 2010 was the day my bestfriend died. I wish he was still here. Regardless, I'll update this weekend maybe, or as soon as possible. Thank you all so much for the wonderful support so far. _

_:] _

_-brandfuckingnew_


	10. Chapter 10

You're Welcome.

He was positive he was in a nightmare. Nothing could be this perfect. Why was he hugging his Mom? This couldn't be. He had to be dreaming. He _had_ to be. He tried not to water his eyes by just being in her empty embrace. She had a huge smile on her delicate face, her cheeks a bit rosy. He missed her so much. He couldn't tell where he was, it was too dark.

"Mommy, I'm scared."

"Sasuke!" She pressed his body harder against hers, her long fingers going through his really short and spiky hair. He was only five. "Why? I'm right here!" She held him tighter. But he couldn't stop _crying_. When he was younger, that's all he really did, cry.

And then his Dad told him to "Man up", and so did his elder brother. Both of them eagerly encouraged him that crying was for the weak. And he wasn't weak.

"No, you're not." Even in his dream, and even if he was only five in his dream, he wasn't fucking stupid. His tiny hands curled into fists and he pushed her off of him, and he could see the hurt into his holographic Mom's eyes. They were so dark and beautiful. Has it really been that long?

She brushed her wrinkled, white—and stained—apron downwards, and adjusted her long, up to her knees, skirt. Giving him a warm smile, she let her tears fall against her cheeks. Even crying, his Mom was beautiful. Why was she crying too? He didn't understand. No matter how he analyzed his dream and what he was doing in his dream, he didn't know.

Maybe it was best for him to pretend to cry than to actually do it. Yeah, he'll roll with that.

"Sasuke." She whispered, laughing.

What was so funny?

"What?" He scratched his cheek, a habit he somehow realized in his sleep. He's always scratched himself, in the oddest places.

"You're bleeding." She laughed again, a bit more hollow. Confused, he switched his vision to the closet mirror, and stared as two huge cuts graced both of his child-like fat cheeks, blood trailing downwards to his small jaw. He winced as he used both of his palms to press pressure against both wounds.

More soft laughter continued. "Why aren't you helping me?" He whispered back. It was still too dark to even tell if she left him alone or not. But he heard the laughter get closer and closer. And he felt his cheeks wince more and more, and all he could do was press his palms harder until his face felt numb. Until he couldn't feel.

Her laughter vanished slowly, and all he heard when he woke up was "I love you, Sasuke. You're bleeding."

Scratching both of his cheeks as he climbed off of the still sleeping Hinata, he rubbed his eyes and hopped off the queen-sized bed and pull his sweats back of, walking quietly into the bathroom. Turning the faucet, he let the cold water splash his face.

He didn't like having a dream like that. He didn't like having to re-live part of his childhood. Losing his Mom at such a young age made him wish he had Alzheimer's or something; he hated remembering it. He hated everything to do with her. He didn't like how his cheeks hurt and his eyes were watery and so were hers. He didn't even like seeing his fake Mom in his dreams crying.

He didn't like her crying, period.

Was she upset at his actions in the recent times? Was she disappointed like his Father?

He didn't even want to get into what his Dad did. That scarred him just as much as his Mom's death.

Death. What did that even mean? Death means you're not breathing anymore. You're not alive, you're dead. You fail to take in the air your lungs need. Death means you linger into others' lives, when you realize you're dead and all you can do is try to meddle into others' lives to try to feel alive. Death means you're buried underground; the hospital gives your family documents saying you are indeed dead. Death means people dress in black, and surround themselves around you in your casket. Death means people cry for you. Death means that you're either going to heaven or hell, hypothetically speaking. Death means you've got a hole dug into the dirt with your name on it. Death means you decompose, your body does, and you're part of the Earth. Death means you've had your life and you're ready to move on into a new one, you're ready to abandon what you worked so hard for. Death means that another takes your place, and that you're slowly removed off of everyone's mind.

Sasuke wasn't the most religious but he figured that he hated the word 'death' and he was honestly terrified for his time to come. Even so, he had been trying to postpone his date for suicide.

It's a mental note he can't really explain. He had this coming on himself. But he didn't want to leave her. Glancing through the crack of the door, he looked at her bare body, and as she brought the comforters back to her chest and buried her face into his pillow, that soft smile gracing him. Her eyes were closed, and her hair was really curly from the tips.

Was she really worth nothing to him that he would leave her to fend for herself?

Groaning to himself, he pulled out his cigarette box she let him buy the afternoon prior to this one—it was about two in the afternoon, they were both heavy sleepers—and snuck out the front door. Climbing the ladder around the corner, down the hall, he opened up the top of the building's rooftop door and shut it behind him. Sighing in relief, he brought out his lighter—which surprisingly still had gas in it—and a cig and lit it up, hovering it to his crisp lips.

He needed air. Dirty air. Air that could kill you at any given time. Air that made his throat moist and made him crave for more. The filth in it was enough to make him think straight. He knew he was addicted at this point. Scratching his neck and cheek without even noticing, he blew and took in more of the fumes through his lungs and released it through his nostrils.

It felt so right. He was sure that if anyone asked him if they were good, he'd warn them not to do it. Not to get addicted to shit that does nothing but trouble. That makes your significant other hate you until you promise not to do it anymore.

Remembering of said person who was downstairs sleeping still, he stared blankly at the surrounding crowded buildings around the one he was clearly on top of and saw all of the huge Tokyo corporations, schools, homes, everything.

He loved the city.

He loved the view.

And he loved her.

Throwing his stupid cigarette off the roof, he scurried down the ladder and slid back into the loft. Grabbing his towel from the hallway laundry room—built into a closet—he rushed towards the empty bathroom and stripped out of his sweats for a shower. He needed to get rid of the stench of nicotine off of him.

He didn't want her to get upset with him. He didn't want to see her cry. He didn't want to see any female shed a single tear because of him ever again.

"You're not eating." Ino deadpanned, staring at her friend who winced at her loudness—even though she was speaking at normal voice level, and the sound of just anything suddenly frightened the Hyuuga. She winced and gave her a small smile. Dipping her fry into her small ketchup container, Ino curled a tip of her long, blond hair with one of her fingers. "Can you just eat already!" Biting the tip of her fry, she set it aside and looked at her friend with deep concern. "Hina-"

"I'm not very hungry." Wincing again as her extremely loud and stubborn friend sighed heavily, she sighed as well. "I'm sorry I-"

"No, no," She shrugged, smacking her rosy pink lips that she had previously just re-applied for the second time while at the lunch table in the middle of the huge food court, with screaming children in the background as well as heavy shoppers and employees keeping the area safe and clean. "It's just that dumplings are your favorite, and you're not…"

Cheeks turning a rosy-red, she bit her lip. "I'm not-!"

"Is everything going fine?" Processing what her bestfriend had just stuttered, her eyes widened. "I never thought such thing, Hina! You just seem…distanced."

Distanced. What did that even mean? "Huh?"

"You're daydreaming again…" Sighing, she slurped her strawberry smoothie. Hinata puckered her pink lips and sighed, apologizing. "Don't. I can see that you're a bit over-thinking a guy, perhaps?" Arching a brow, she witnessed as Hinata's calm facial expression suddenly changed within a matter of two seconds into a horrified, embarrassed look.

Smiling big, she snatched her arm and laughed. "Hinata! How come I was not informed?"

"You never asked…" She laughed awkwardly. Maybe meeting her wasn't a good way to spend her afternoon of solitude while Sasuke went to run some errands for his change of addresses at the post office.

"Has he taken you on dates?"

"No."

"Do you wear anything around him to make you look a bit more decent? Because honestly hoodies are so high school senior year…" Scanning the wobbling Hinata as she gripped the table and stared down at her friend, Ino laughed. "I'll buy you clothes. My treat. Let's go!"

Not having much of a choice, she complied, four new layers of red added onto her cheeks. She was going to regret this.

"I'm not insane." He muttered out loud. He found himself on the roof again. He organized his change of address at the post office earlier, and finding nothing else to do, he climbed back up the ladder and stared at the busy streets of Tokyo. He stared as the pigeons flew all around. He stared at the cars driving too slow for his comfort in the mist of traffic.

Sighing, he pulled out his bong. He still had a pack of dime left, he figured why waste twenty-dollars worth of stack he's had for months when he could just smoke it all now and never buy some again? Surely that counts as an exception, he was just wasting his previously bought substances so that they wouldn't have been a waste.

In the drug world, you can't return what you don't use/ don't like anymore. He tried to not think of how guilty he felt in his ribs for doing what he was doing, but a huge percentage of his mentality did not care.

She wouldn't find out.

Even if she did, he wouldn't let her go. If she left him, he would just resume his attempts until he succeeded. He wasn't going to lose her over something so silly, anyway. I mean _weed. S_hit doesn't kill you. She was overacting. Like all women.

Bringing the bong to his lips, he sniffed the hair and sighed to himself, the relief already kicking in. he felt everything shift and move for a second, spraying the can of air freshener around him. He loved the smell of lilacs. They reminded him of her.

She smelled like lilacs, always. He seemed to notice it more whenever they both had…

Shaking his head, he focused his gaze to his designed bong. Swirls of red, blue, purple, orange, and yellow, circulated the glass piece. A regular bong, nothing special. Nothing out of the ordinary. Smoking calmed his nerves. Made him think more. Made him more open with everything. He liked having an opinion and being heard from others. He didn't understand why people were so against it.

Why Hinata was against it.

Rubbing his temples, he resumed to staring at the city below him. He felt like a giant, and all of the rest of the citizens were ants. He wanted to stomp on them. He wanted to throw his cigarette at them and see one of them die.

He wanted someone else to die but him.

He wasn't leaving, yet.

_Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for the support. Seeing as this is my story, I'm not going to change my plans based on what you'd all like. It's categorized as "Angst" for a reason : )._

-brandfuckingnew


	11. Chapter 11

You're Welcome.

"You seem nervous." Shizune mused, trying not to chuckle at the discomforting look the Uchiha returned. He was shaking a bit and couldn't stop scratching his cheeks. Prior to even attending his first therapy session, he rolled a blunt and had a cig. It felt it was necessary to try to think straight while feeling a bit more calmer than he would've felt sober. Sasuke's mind didn't function as well as everyone else's, evidently.

This whole thing was stupid and pointless. He was _fine_. He felt fine, anyway. He told himself he was fine. He would constantly repeat the words "I'm fine" so often, he almost believed them. But he _wasn't_. When you're "fine", you feel content with everything. Nothing should be bothering you, no one should be annoying you, you should feel calm and happy. Energetic, and you should be smiling at anyone and anything because you're "fine". Because you should feel like nothing and no one will stop you and that because you're "fine", you should have nothing to worry about.

When you say "I'm fine", it means that you're okay. It means that you don't need anyone to worry about you and that you don't want anyone to care. It means that you aren't thinking of dark thoughts or suicide, that you're embracing life. And he felt as though not many people understood that saying "I'm fine" was also one of the biggest bullshitting statements to ever come out of anyone's mouths.

In this case, he was a bullshitter. He wasn't fine. He was far from it. But he longed to be as far from Shizune's stare that bored into his eyes the most. He hated the caramel painted walls, and how small the room was. There were only two stools—which they both occupied—one across from the other. Frames of diplomas from high-class colleges and other pictures of patients with her were covering the majority of two sides of the small, well equipped and organized room.

He noticed a spot at the bottom right corner of her second wall, an empty frame from it. Was she expecting him to take some sort of photograph with her to prove that he saved him? 

If she thought she was ever going to "save" him, she had another fucking thing coming. Only one person could save him and that was a particular petite female who was sitting in the waiting room outside of the small office. He wasn't going to fake shit either; real talk, she couldn't do anything for him even if she tried and talking to him about problems that are slowly going away was pointless. Smirking smugly at the thought of the Hyuuga waiting for him outside the wooden door, he turned his gaze back to the older female who scribbled who knows what on her clipboard.

"I think I want to start a few exercises to get to know you as a person better. You know, get more familiar and stuff." She smiled. He didn't like her smile. She had crooked teeth and her lips were too swollen from licking them so much. This woman repulsed him.

"Hn."

"Okay!" She sighed, hoping he'd try to put some effort. "I'll start. I'm Shizune, and I'm a very caring person. I like reading novels, helping others, and taking pictures with my Nikon." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and smiled again, showing her gross teeth. "Now you."

"I like having sex and smoking."

"_Sasuke!_" She blushed a bit, the heat reaching up to her neck. How weird and gross, he mentally thought. "Take this seriously! I can't help you if you don't put effort! Now, tell me things that are appropriate as well as make you, well, you."

"My girlfriend?"

"That's cute. And that's a start." She winked, causing him to twitch. This wasn't working. "And thank you for admitting your drug problems. We'll work on that, too."

Getting up from the stool, he got up and slammed the wooden door behind him and grabbed the Hyuuga's wrist—who was engaged into a new Cosmo magazine that had caught her eye—and left the hospital without turning back. He needed a smoke and he needed to leave that horrible place.

He hated hospitals. They don't save anyone. They let you die and take your statistics from which they research and only save those they believe are worth it. They used you as though they were scientists and you were the rat bait or something. He had this horrible experience once at the hospital, and he chose to try to never re-live it again.

Unfortunately, his girlfriend was the person who had suggested him to try to put some effort into getting better. She wanted him to actually mean it, at least once, when he would say "I'm fine". She didn't like him lying. She hated it.

But she kept that to herself, usually.

He led her into some old record store. It was funny to her because this whole situation just reminded her of 500 Days of Summer, only, she was hoping they would last more than 500 days, and that maybe he'd be healthy again. Instead of that annoying cliché of being all lovey-dovey in public, they both scanned all of the aisles and went through the newest CD's to on-sale cassettes and vinyl. The store gave you that warm feeling that made you feel like the coldness outside was nothing.

It was nice.

Deciding to purchase some vinyl of The Smiths, she brought out her purse and bought it, hoping she could find her old player at home. She was sure her Dad gave her one before she left the house. Maybe she could share good music with Sasuke, he wasn't much of a music listener.

He wasn't much of anything. Which made her want to get home quicker to listen to it and force him to get a good music taste. Grabbing her bag with her purchased item after exchanging a generous smile back to the young cashier who blushed a bit, she went about the store to find Sasuke in the adult's only section.

"Why are you-"

"Relax, you don't have to watch it with me."

"What if I want to watch it too?"

He scratched his cheek. "By all means?"

Grabbing the pornography from the shelf along with the others he had tucked into his right armpit—which she didn't notice until he checked them all out and paid for, getting a laugh from the what seemed to have been a fifteen year old cashier who clearly couldn't stop staring at the Hyuuga. "That'll be thirty two, seventy, Mr. and Mrs."

"We're not-"

"Mm." Sasuke muttered, enjoying the blush on Hinata's cheeks. They may as well should get married. They acted more like old people who have been together for more than thirty years than two twenty year olds who've only dated for a few months, barely a year.

It was weird to the Hyuuga to be called "Mrs". She wasn't used to such a title. Did she look that old? Was she that much of a horrible dresser or did her hair make her look like she had settled down. Paying her soft smile—with less actual kindness—they both left the record store without another word.

"Would it bother you that much?"

"Hm?" She whispered, tucking her scarf around her neck as they reached a crosswalk onto the busy streets. People ran about, doing their businesses elsewhere. Tokyo was always busy during Christmas, and it was slightly snowing lightly, to her delight. She loved snow.

"Being called my wife."

Did he sound offended? "Of course not!"

"Hn." She was especially curious now, but chose to drop the subject and continue her pace next to him as they reached the apartment complex. It was beginning to show a bit more, and it got too cold for her comfort range. Holding his hand in the building, she felt how cold and numb his hand was. Hoping her warm ones would warm his up, she tightened her grip.

She looked down, not noticing the small smile he had given her.

He loved her. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what he loved the most about her, but he knew that from what he could determine, he loved every single thing about her. He loved how her fingers wouldn't stop gripping his. He tried not to wince at how tight she was holding him, but it felt nice.

She felt nice. She was nice. She was everything he couldn't be.

Hanging his and her coat onto the coat rack that stood high and tall next to the door as they stepped in, she was off to find the record player and he wondered about the halls, towards his usual spot on the roof again.

He wanted some cocaine, which he finally got around to picking up. His newest experiment, he had never really tried it before. Using his hand and his credit card, he sliced up the white substance—grateful the snow didn't ruin it, and snorted it all in, bringing it to his nostrils. They flared a bit, and he awkwardly gulped whatever he had just sniffed.

He kind of wished he could bring her up here, and snort some with her. Have her approval of it. Have her accept him and try to get into the things he liked to be more alike.

But opposites attract, and she would never do something to harm her body. He didn't want her to ruin the perfection she had naturally. In a way, he was glad she hated drugs. He wished he had that mentality when he was younger. He wished he could reverse time and just have never tried it at fourteen. He could've avoided what he was doing. Hiding, from his significant other, who thought he was clean when he wasn't.

Guilt. That's what he felt. That, and coldness. He didn't bring a sweater, only wearing a shirt. But who cares? He wasn't going to stand there for long, anyway. Rubbing his nose a bit, he slid back into the warm building and walked back into their apartment, to find her setting up an old record player. She placed the black stick into the record and then the music began to play.

"_Some nine year old tough who peddles drugs, I swear to God, I swear, I never knew what drugs were._"

The irony of the lyrics was too much for him to keep him from just telling her the truth.

But he wouldn't. He'd play it cool, like usual.

"Do you like it?"

"Hm?"

"The record." She laughed a bit, bringing up her hair into a sloppy ponytail that hit her back as she let it fall. He didn't like her hair pulled up. He showed her collarbones and her neck and he just didn't like being taunted with her soft skin.

"Yeah." He agreed without really being honest. He supposed the reason why he hated them automatically was the reminder they gave him of what he just did that would tear them apart. He didn't want her to be upset and leave her, quite the opposite, actually.

She's a forgiving person, but once you've gained her trust, you should value it. He was trying his best. Walking over to her and kneeling down, he scooped her up and sat her on his lap. "You don't like it." She deadpanned. Was she hurt over him just not being interested into old music? He wasn't close-minded but he just didn't like the whole irony of his problems being so blunt into a song. They weren't bad, but he just didn't want to deal with that shit.

Nodding in agreement, he pulled her closer. It was getting darker outside, and the snow continued to fall. He sort of wished they had a house instead of a loft, he wouldn't mind holding her with like, a chimney nearby or something. The cliché things chicks dig.

He was sure she'd like something like that.

Running up his cold hands up her loose crop top—which he had never actually seen her wear, ever—he felt her jolt from his touch. He frowned.

"You're cold."

"Oh." He arched a brow. As much as he wanted to tell himself that she didn't mean to reject his touch, it still hurt, even if was just a little bit. She'd have to get used to the coldness because he wasn't going to stop just because she wasn't used to it. He went back up her shirt and began to use his fingers to draw circles on her back.

Gritting her teeth, the Hyuuga tried not to move or shake or anything. He started to create small circles on her flat stomach. Wincing slightly, she felt him press on her skin a bit harder, telling her to stop moving. And so she did. Even if his touch was too discomforting at the moment.

And they just sat there, no exchange of words. Which was a typical evening for them both. The heat of the apartment was finally getting to them, so eventually she did relax to how his fingers teasingly tapped her bra's hooks, but thought nothing of it. She wasn't up for what had happened last night. She was tired. Which was something she always said.

Tapping the hooks louder, she muttered "I'm tired."

The tapping never did end. He just continued to do it, using his other hand on her hip to secure her into his lap. It would be strange if he never got to do this again. He was afraid—or rather, was most likely paranoid because of the coke he had just snorted—that she wouldn't be here anymore. It was like how Mothers have those instincts when their children are going to experience something terrible; he felt _that_.

He was scared.

"Hungry?" She tried getting up but he just didn't want to let her go. Sighing, his hands clapped themselves opened and she got up, walking towards the kitchen on the other side of the loft, leaving him there alone as she began to find something to make.

They had left over dangos, since they were out most of the day food wasn't on her mind. She didn't cook often anyway. They'd eat outdoors sometimes. Understatement.

Scratching his cheeks, he took a breath and followed. "Yeah."

By now the record had stopped playing. Maybe it was time to just, you know, watch the stuff he had bought.

"Don't start it without me." She nudged her elbow against his, giving him a smile.

For some reason, he felt as though it would be her last real smile. Maybe he was being idiotic. He was in fact too paranoid over everything. He was worrying over nothing. She was fine. He was fine. They were _fine_.

For now, to say the least.

_Author's Note: I know I update this story too fast, my apologies. When I feel like shit I write another chapter. The song for this is Lithium(Originally performed by Nirvana) by pianist Maxence Cyrin. He's a wonderful pianist and yeah. I love Nirvana, too. _

_And the next few chapters will be far more depressing. Because I know what will happen and writing it will be hard for me because, well, it's that sad—at least to me, the fucking author, of all people._

_-brandfuckingnew_


	12. Chapter 12

**(I recommend listening to "Where Is My Mind" [Originally performed by The Pixies] by Maxence Cyrin to get into the mood of this chapter!) **

You're Welcome.

Those three words struck him to his cord. He just blinked at the man with the mask on his face as he spoke them so clearly and blunt. He blinked again, and once more, and blinked three more times. He could only blink. He felt as though his heart was turning cold suddenly, as if the air he was breathing was quickly going away. He felt himself looking at her as her eyes began to water suddenly and she could only tighten her grip onto his hands as they both sat there, staring at Dr. Hatake. He scribbled on his clipboard and left it near the small table in which she was situated in, and waltzed out the room.

"You have cancer."

He wasn't sure why he could still feel in his pulse, it was as if hearing those three words made it hard for him to breathe, to move, to speak, and to understand. It was too soon. She didn't deserve this. Why her? Why did they have to fuck her life up instead of his? He wished he could give her what she needed, but it was no use, the tumor was there, and it wouldn't leave, it wasn't going to leave, they had nothing to do.

She was going to die, just like that, before his eyes.

She was going to leave him.

After she promised she wouldn't ever.

That pain in his ribs returned and he could only turn to look at her face. He hadn't noticed how much more paler she had gotten, when she said she was "tired", he only brushed it off as just not being in "the mood" for anything he wanted to do with her. He was stupid. He should've known. He should've asked her if she was alright. He didn't. He never did. He could've tried to prevent this from happening, but it was no use, she was leaving, and that was it.

So why did it hurt so much? Why did he just stare at her and not tell her comforting words? It was because it was mortified and she just couldn't look at him without crying. She slowly turned her head to face the clipboard as silence filled the room besides her muffled cries and she read the clipboard over and over.

She was in as much of denial as he was. How this even happen? She was fine before. She never had any problems. And now this? Was he seriously going to lose another important figure in his short life of twenty two years? She had just turned twenty four about a month ago. Now this. This just _had _to fucking happen.

This would only happen to an Uchiha named Sasuke.

He tried to blink back the tears that were trying to form. He wasn't going to cry, tears were for the weak. He could cry when he was sleeping, or cry when he was alone. He didn't want to show her that he was sad or scared, he wanted to comfort her with what he could. He leaned it and turned her chin quietly, muttering a "Hey."

She looked at her, her pearl-white orbs glistening due to how watery they were. This was killing him. Her lip was swollen from how hard she was biting it, the small freckles that were too tiny to be noticed to the regular human eye. His vision was obvious more advanced than most. He notices the smallest things of her and he tried to take mental photographs of them all, while she looked decent, so that he would always remember.

He was terrified.

"Hey." He repeated, trying to get her attention again. He gestured for her to scoot over so that he would have room to lie next to her on the medical bed. He was once in one almost six months ago or so. He forgot. He forgot a lot of things.

He pulled her closer, as she wrapped her arms around him, her head buried into his shirt, as her tears continued to fall and stain it. He was going to let this one go, he wanted to save this shirt with her marks, her smell, her everything. He needed to start saving everything about her for when she was going to leave.

Three months. That's all she had, or so the doctor said. He said that it was either that long or sooner or longer, it was only an estimation.

He could lose her right then and there if the tumor wanted that to be the outcome. She could leave right now. He held her tighter.

"I love you." He was low but easy for her to hear. He had only said it twice to her, this time being the second. She cried silently, yet harder. This was going to be hard for both of them. She didn't want to leave, not yet; she had so much to leave more. Why is it that the worst happens to the best? She didn't understand herself. She was _fine_.

But she had to accept the fact that she now wasn't and will never be until she died. She had chemotherapy scheduled for tomorrow first thing in the morning. They said maybe the therapy would held. But it wasn't a positive thing.

She wasn't lacking hope, she had so much of it. Wiping her eyes, she tried to grimace and give him a small smile. A smile of hope. A smile that could only mean either or two things: that they could either make these last few months last, or could waste them away being depressed when there was a slight chance that she would be fine in the end.

She was hoping that he could return it. That he could kiss her and hold her and tell her everything would be alright. But that would mean that she would be expecting too much from the usually coldhearted Uchiha.

She was wrong. "I'll be with you throughout everything." He whispered into her ear, as he lifted her chin and kissed her. A passionate kiss that could mean a lot of things. He meant for it to mean that no matter what would happen, he would never love her less, or abandon her. He would be with her through all. His problems with drugs and everything else in his fucked up life wasn't nearly as important as hers.

And that's when he realized that this whole time, during this whole relationship, that he only wanted her to care for him. He didn't care for her needs. He only loved her for being there. And he was determined to show that he loved her for everything and that he would show her what she needed, which was love and hope.

He loved her.

Before he knew it, he was at his very weakest and stood up pulling her up with him, bringing her into his lap. His head was against her shoulders, and he just sat there with her on top, and let a few tears fall silently. "You'll be okay." He muttered, more to himself as he just couldn't wrap this whole thing around his head. This just couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it. If she left him, he would follow. He was that serious.

He kissed her again, savoring her taste. He needed to have it, always. And she kissed him back. "You'll be fine, you won't go, you just won't, okay?"

More kisses.

"Don't cry too, fuck, please don't."

And she just continued, she couldn't help it, he just kept on saying what began to scare her the most.

"Stop! Stop it!"

She wiped some off her face, but then she just gave in and let more and more fall. Her cheeks were soaked.

"For fucks sake! Stop it! You will fucking be alright and nothing fucking bad will happen. Fucking stop it!"

He was pleading at this point. He was hoping that she would just smile at him and hug him and then they'd go to those stupid therapies and she'd be alright. He was hoping that this would blow over and that crying was just a waste. He was thinking that perhaps he only said what he did to calm himself down.

His pulse slowly began to configure itself and his heart was breathing again. The tightening in his chest was vanishing. "I love you." She had said. She made it stop. The throbbing he felt was slowly going away. The one person who he was going to lose and cause him much more pain than in that moment in a few months stopped it. She kept her arms chained around his waist and hugged him. Embraced him. Took in what she would miss when she had to go.

She didn't want to let go. She didn't.

_Author's Note: YEAH ISN'T THIS A TWIST! No but really this chapter is probably one of my saddest I've ever written. I'll update by this weekend, because, well, I update too fast. ;) _

_-brandfuckingnew_


	13. Chapter 13

You're Welcome.

Chemo.

Just thinking of it made her nervous. They said it made you lose your hair. They said that somehow you grow bald from treatment. She wasn't looking forward to losing her hair that she took so much care of since junior high. Losing her length—that reached up to her hips—wasn't what she wanted. But who could help cancer, of all things? No one volunteers to get it. No one signs up on a clipboard and wants it. So she would have to get used to it and hopefully her tumor would either disappear or they could remove it.

So why was she nervous? Dr. Hatake didn't say she'd immediately die. He didn't say she'd survive, either. But he _did_ say that treatment would help. That perhaps a few surgeries would help her. He never said for her to worry, with their technology, they could stop it before it continued to spread. Sure, they didn't get it in time, but they can stop it before it's too late. What she was missing was optimism.

Strength. And was she was lacking was hope, even though she told herself she had enough of it. And that's not what worried her. What worried her the most was the suicidal man in the room next to hers, who was at his second session of therapy. She awkwardly scratched her cheek with her long sleeve of the hospital robe she had to change into. She was afraid of the huge oval-like machine in front of her.

She hated cancer.

"Don't be nervous." Dr. Hatake chuckled quickly as he entered the room lazily, starling her. She didn't bother turning her head, she got headaches easily. Especially near him. "Just go ahead and lay down, so we can start. The sooner the better, eh?"

Nodding with hesitance, she plopped onto her back on the bed. He dimmed the lights a bit, which didn't help her queasy stomach. Flickering a button on the machine, the spiral circle began to glow, and slowly the bed itself entered the circle, and returned out, and that process continued for as long as she could remember until she ended up falling asleep from keeping her eyes closed too long.

She was so easily weak. She slept at anyone's convenience. Or the inconvenience of a certain spiky haired male staring at her through a glass window intensely in the hallway outside the room, in this case.

He didn't understand why it made his ribs ache just staring at her in that position. The only place where he'd be completely fine with her wearing bare any articles of clothing—even though she was clearly covered with those hospital robes that you can see everything from behind which displeased him a lot—was on his bed.

Selfish, but true. He wasn't used to it. He'd have to adjust, for her well being, of course.

His hands without thinking ran threw his damp hair, tugging small strands as the machine glowed until the lights were flickered back on, which took about a half an hour. And for some reason it pained him a lot when she quickly stood up from the bed and tapped her hair, sighing with a small, sad, smile as some of it was in her palms.

Hair loss. Chemo causes it. And when chemo stops, the hair grows back. No problem.

Dr. Hatake waved at her and then stepped out the door, glaring at the Uchiha who kept on staring at her from the glass window. He just couldn't _not _do it. Coughing loudly to grab the Uchiha's attention, he looked at the tall doctor.

"It's helping." He murmured as he scribbled more on his clipboard. "Be sure to stop by tomorrow at the same hour?" It came out more as a rhetorical question as he walked down the hospital's hall to step into another room. The man tugged his collar and sighed as he tried to calm the lady who's cries were so loud Sasuke heard them from his spot—seven doors down from the weeping woman's.

And after five seconds, the cries were even louder and suddenly everyone else were quiet to listen in on it, which was rude. Deciding it was none of his business and that he shouldn't and didn't care for her misfortune, he quickly stepped into the chemo room and moved the blinds to cover the glass window.

She smiled at him as she hopped off the bed and walked over to him and hugged him. Because that's all she could really do and quite frankly she didn't even have nothing to say. Nothing that he hadn't already heard. Nothing new, nothing he wouldn't be able to adapt to. He was, after all, adapting to her health necessities.

He was also extremely high right now.

"I'm getting bald." She muttered, referring to the small yet noticeable spot on the right side of her head, with her index finger. She chewed on her bottom lip.

"You will look no less different to me in any way." Before she could say anything else he pecked her on the lips to shut her up. "You can get a haircut or something."

A haircut. To make it seem as though it was normal. She could wear hats. Wigs. Anything. Bandanas. Or get used to a shiny, naked head until her sessions were over. Unless she was cured. Until the stupid cancer left her system; or so, she hoped.

"Okay."

Blushing a bit as she nudged her head against his shoulder for him to leave so that she could change, he gave her a skeptical look. "I won't look." He turned his head slowly smirking as she took his word and went about changing as quickly as possible to find him staring at her from the corner of his eye, arms crossed, as she zipped up her jeans and was about to pull over her sweatshirt.

February weather was terrible in the city.

"Liar." She smiled smugly as she led the way out the door, him following.

He really hoped that they could share more little moments like they had done a few moments prior. He didn't want them to be those clingy like people who only thought of the worst and were just too boring of it. He wanted to make her happy. And see her smile. No matter what.

Even though he was uncontrollably aware of how much of a "needy" person he truly was and the only way to ignore those annoying thoughts that pestered his mind was to smoke a blunt. He was also fully aware that he didn't want to continue his cigarette necessities and so he poked the nicotine patch on his arm under his sleeve and winced as he pat it.

She didn't notice.

All and all, it was best she didn't. It was best that she assumed he was fine. He wasn't sane. Far from that. But he was aware of his actions, and he didn't want to be so irresponsible during moments like these.

And the hallucinations he was feeling were occurring as they decided to drive to a local parlor not too far from the hospital. He figured having her get a haircut that would not only be able to cover most of the empty spots on her head where her hair had fallen out due to chemo was good, but also for her to have a refreshing new style. And perhaps a self esteem boost, because he figured that chemo would ruin her esteem more than anything else.

He didn't want her to forget that he thought she was perfect and that losing hair wouldn't change that fact.

So when he swiftly with a turn of the wheel parked the small, well equipped and clean car without any hassle into the designated spot right in front of the busy parlor, they were both out of said car and walked into the small building.

Dangling and moving franticly due to the harsh winds of the winter season, a sign that read "Haruno Haircuts" that was painted with a soft pink tone with a hint of red made a cackling noise as they stepped inside through the glass door, a small bell ringing lightly as well as feeling the heat automatically hit both of their flushed, cold faces.

It was like those cozy homes in old movies, the clichés. The ones that make you feel at home, with dozens of pictures hung on all of the walls—only in the parlor they were models with different types of cuts—and the soft cushions for the waiting room that you would find in those tiny houses for fairytales. All and all, it just felt nice.

Feeling nice was a rare thing for the Uchiha.

"Welcome!" The bright haired female who brought up her loose yet short, pink hair with a clip grinned, her emerald eyes equally as bright as her hair. He chewed on the inside of his mouth and stuffed his hands into his coat's pockets. He already disliked the too loud individual, even though based off his knowledge from a certain idiot, she was the best haircutter in town. "Oh wait, I know you! You're Naruto's friend!"

And so the agony of irritation begins. "Yeah."

"What can I do for you?" She had her hands on her hips, her apron a bit too tight as it framed her too skinny figure. He suddenly thanked his adoration for curvy women, as he gave the Hyuuga next to him a glance. Because frankly, Sakura's figure wasn't much to look at.

"She needs a short cut."

Giving the opposing woman a soft smile, she stood up and directed Sakura of what she wanted, how she wanted it, and why she needed it, all the basics. Grabbing her arm and bringing her with a jolt in front, the green eyed female smiled big. "I know _just _the cut!" And as if on qu, before he could even blink both girls were gone farther into the parlor.

If she fucked up her hair, he'd strangle the next best person: the male who had recommended Sakura in the first place.

xxxxxxxx

"So you're dating Sasuke or something?" Sakura asked as she began to bring the cover over Hinata's shivering body. Another sign of cancer was the ability to be easily targeted by viral diseases. She needed to buy more coats.

"Y-yes."

"That's so cute! Naruto mentioned that once but I think it's strange." She whispered. "Not that I don't think you guys are meant for each other! I mean, I bet! But like, he never, you know, shows anything for anyone!"

"He does, to me." She twirled both her index fingers against one another. How uncomfortable. To be told that her boyfriend didn't care about her. Well obviously Sakura had no idea what she was even saying so she rubbed that garbage aside. Hinata knew the truth and that was all that mattered.

"Really?" Grabbing a comb and a pair of scissors as well as a small spray bottle of water, she began to spray some on her dry head. "Naruto says that Sasuke is well reserved and stuff. I mean, back in high school I was practically at my _knees_ for him. But I mean it never worked out. He just didn't care."

Hinata scratched her cheek without thought.

"Anyway, I'm glad he finally shows interest into someone as cute as you." She laughed as she began to swiftly grab the few split ends and chopped them all off. "He's a great guy, even though I doubt anyone like me as gotten as far with him as you have." 

"Thank you." Relief.

Overall, Sakura wasn't a bad person. Sure, she was _loud_, and a bit self centered, but she was gorgeous. She was nice. And she knew when to speak her mind and when not to. She seemed like the kind of friend Hinata needed. Of course, their conversation during the haircut wasn't at all personal: Just a few exchanges of interests, really.

Even so, they even exchanged phone numbers.

"I'm sure Naruto and I will see you both really soon." The red-head laughed, as she yanked the robe off of her customer. "Well, that's it! Do you like it?"

Staring at the mirror, Hinata felt like crying.

Not because it was an ugly cut; it just reminded her so much of how short her hair was in primary school. Her bangs weren't straight anymore, more so razored enough to frame her child-like face and give her eyes enough room to see everything without hiding behind her bangs. Her hair now reached up to her neck, and got shorter as it didn't cover much of her front side; it was longer in the back.

Back in primary school, she always thought she looked like a boy. And looking like a boy back then wasn't what she felt comfortable with. What also triggered that sentimental feeling of wanting to cry was that she'd lose what was left of her hair too, in the next few days, weeks, months.

"I love i-it."

"Good!"

Leaving the shop was just as unnerving. He couldn't even look at her, because the whole time she just kept quiet to herself in the passenger seat and kept wiping her eyes. He wanted to tell her that her hair wasn't necessary, that she looked good no matter what. He would miss holding onto it during sex and stuff but it'd grow back in awhile. It didn't really matter to him, he didn't love her less.

"Hey."

She looked up as they reached the red light before their street.

"You're still just as beautiful." It came out quiet and weak, strained, even. But he had said it and that's what made her smile at him and pull him by his coat's collar and just kiss him—which was eventually interrupted by cars behind them honking for holding up traffic because the red light had changed to green.

Perhaps playing the role as a sweet male to his ill significant other would pay off. He just wanted her to be happy during these stupid few weeks. 

_Few._ He couldn't wait until they were fucking over. A few more to go.

_Author's Note: Yeah, it's weird to not update this story so fast. I almost forget how to end it, haha. But yeah, feel free to review and stuff. Like I said earlier, I'm not going to change my story just because you want such and such to happen. I already have everything sorted out, anyway. I'm not going to give into my readers to keep you satisfied; this story is more for my friend Jake than anyone else, really._

_Okay, enough rambling._

_-brandfuckingnew_


	14. Chapter 14

You're Welcome.

Hinata pulled her bandana a bit more to cover her extremely short hair. Her cut ended up looking like Tegan Quin, hair wise. The light violet cotton piece tucked her longer strands a bit, as she gripped her grocery bags to her chest. It was getting a bit warmer, she had to admit. She felt warm all the time now. The now March breeze continued to prevent other citizens from wearing capris and short sleeved shirts; but not Hinata, she was able to. She could. Because she was sick. She got warm too often, so wearing less was the best, for her, anyway.

Waiting at the crossing lamp on the busy streets of Tokyo, she dropped the bags near her feet as the light was still permanently on "Do not cross". She stood at about 5"2 inches, next to a mother who gripped her son's arm tight.

Her son was loud. When describing the son, she couldn't. she just smiled down at him. His dirty blond hair reminded her a lot of Naruto. It had been a long time since she had seen him. The boy's hair covered for the most part all of his forehead, and his cheeks were just as dirty as his roots. His small, chubby hand was on his cheek as she blushed a bit at Hinata's gentle smile, and he tugged the sleeve of his Mom.

"Mommy, that lady's pretty."

The woman turned to Hinata, and gave her a toothy grin. Her hair was wild orange, but it suited her. She had her bridge pierced, as well as her dimples. She was a modified woman, and Hinata admired that. It's nice to see women with body modifications as well as children no less out in public. It was refreshing to know that people who did that to their bodies didn't hide from society from being judged; the woman herself was gorgeous.

"I agree." She whispered with her grin at her son, and he laughed. How cute, Hinata thought.

"Where's Mommy two?"

"Your Mom's over there, you see?" She pointed to another woman across the road, who waved at them both. She was taller, and thinner. She had on some jean capris and a tank top, she looked musciline with her short hair that looked gelled up. Both bare arms consisted of tattoo sleeves. Mommy 2. A family of two mothers and what could've looked like an adopted son. Lesbians.

"Mommy two!" The kid yelped as the light of the crossroad turned green, as all cars stopped in motion and paused. Hinata lefted her grocery bags and walked right behind the family. The boy was so excited as he ran towards his other Mom, as she picked up the boy and spun him around. The orange haired woman smiled at her companion and pulled her close, kissing her.

And as Hinata quieted—as well as admiredly—stared at the two women who exchanged more pecks, she also noticed as people who roamed the streets stopped, stared, and left with disgusted faces and hushed tones. Something furious struck in Hinata's chest; it just really bothered her how everyone judged them for their sexual preferences. What's wrong with loving the same gender? Even in high school Hinata was curious of her own preference.

But even then it was just her being confused. She never attempted to seek female compantionship. She liked guys, she was well aware of it. Even though the only interest she had ever shown into a male was back when she dated Kiba. Him and Sasuke, really. Which was kind of sad…

Whatever.

The happy couple grabbed a hold of the boy's hands but just before then, she noticed as the boy tugged off their hands from his and ran up to her. Her pearl orbs blinking quick, she noticed as the boy in front of her looked up at her, seeking her attention. She looked down. "Um, hello?"

"Hi pretty lady!" The boy cheered, a tint of pink rising onto his chubby cheeks. How cute. "I just wanted to say you don't need that bandana, you're pretty! I mean, with it on you're pretty too but I just wanted you to know you will always be pretty!"

_You will always be pretty_.

Did she really give off that look of being so self conscious? She smiled down at him as the parents showed up behind him, scratching their backs with a sly grin with an apologetic look.

"We're sorry about Minori's behavior! He's just really blunt and stuff, he never seems to know when to keep quiet anymore!" The orange haired woman laughed as she took hold of the boy's hand who didn't stop smiling. The whole family was just perfect in Hinata's blurry eyes. She felt like crying from envy of how happy and perfect they were.

"It's no problem." She smiled back, lifting her bags to her chest once more. "You're all wonderful."

"Thank you!" The masculine like woman smiled. "Have a good evening!" She pulled the other arm of the tiny boy and the three of them walked off, talking amongst themselves as well as sharing laughs. She really wished she could have something like that.

A family. Happiness with no troubles. Hinata noticed as the masculine woman stopped and tied her Vans, as well as sliding her ring back to her proper finger. They were married. She had no idea if it was legal, but they were officially married. Her heart went out to them; that was truly one of the cutest thing she had ever witnessed.

So then her thoughts pondered to marriage as she pressed the button of her elevator to her level as both metal doors locked her alone inside the elevator, the bags of groceries once again on the floor. Because she was on the second to last highest level, she had enough time to think to herself in her own world. Her own bubble. About marriage.

Could she marry Sasuke? Was she ready? She was no doubt extremely in love with the man, so if he had ever asked her that, she would unwillingly agree to it. But would he ever? Would he ever do the cliché thing a man would do in a cheesy romantic flick or novel, and get down on a knee, and bring a ring to her finger, and ask, "Will you marry me?"

No. He's too cold and stubborn to do such thing.

But would he do it for Hinata?

She wondered. Would he shove his pride aside and if was necessary embarrass himself to prove his love? Even if that sounded cheesy, she wanted to know. She didn't want to ask "Would you ever marry me?" so that he could say his opinion of it and if he did want to, he'd ask like, two days after she mentioned it.

She wanted him to bring it up when he was ready. She didn't want to push anything. They have been dating for not too long anyway. They rushed a lot. She was aware. They both were. But that didn't stop them at all. She thought of a certain Montague and Capulet, and as both characters of Shakespeare's work were brought into her thoughts, she laughed to herself.

The ending of her favorite play was horrendous. No doubt would it be a déjà vu if the same thing happened to both Sasuke and Hinata. She was sure once she died he would, too. He didn't let anyone else in but her. So it would be logical if either or died, they would as well, chasing one after the other.

A cliché amongst itself. Even so, she thought that their relationship was stronger and more dependent. That it wasn't the type to end so soon. She actually hoped that that's what their relationship was all about.

Opening the always opened door—again, _no one _knows she even lives on this level as it's extremely empty and she has no true neighbors—she didn't find Sasuke anymore. Did he leave? Probably not. He always did wander around. Maybe he's down the hall or something.

_Maybe he's just exploring_. She mused.

And that's when she heard a wincing sound. It was him. She heard him muttering words along the lines of "Shit, shit, shit". Was he in pain? She got a bit worried. Setting the groceries on the counter, she left the apartment, following the sound of his muffled voice. It got louder and louder as she reached further down the empty halls. Looking up, she saw a ladder that lead to the roof. Curious, she climbed it as his voice got more audible for her to hear.

"Sasu?" She called out in a whisper. He didn't hear her. She sighed in relief as she saw him sitting on a bench—since when was there a bench on the roof?, she wondered—back facing her. Smiling, she decided to leave him alone and climb back down.

Until she noticed he was holding something thin and long in between his fingers. Until she noticed as he brought it to his lips, and until he saw him grip the bench with that same arm, the cigarette clearly visible for her to see. She saw the smoke come out of his mouth—she wasn't going to lie, it made him look incredibly sexy. Smoking itself was sexy.—but even so, he was _smoking_, which turned her once blushing cheeks of staring at him look attractive doing it brought her back to the reality of the promise his broke.

Feeling a bit light headed, she hid herself from him seeing her as he turned around, cautious as he turned back around, facing the city. Fury was now present in her luscious eyes. What the actual fuck was he doing? How long was this going on? Was he lying to her this entire time? Maybe this was his first cigarette in months. Her chest hurt. He lied, that was the point.

He. Lied.

He rubbed his sleeve against his nose, as he inhaled out of said nostril again. His nose was stuffy. He had box right next to him. Did he do what she thought he did?

Eyes now watery, she climbed up on the roof quietly and stalked behind him. Wrapping her hands quickly around his eyes, he gapped a bit as she took his cigarette and pressed it against his face. He knew it was her, and he winced a bit. As she pressed it harder and harder. He could also feel her tears land on his hair, as they slid down to his face. 

He was such an ass.

"Hinata I-"

"You lied." She whispered into his ear, as she pressed the cigarette to his face once more. She pulled her hands off of his eyes and grabbed the box, dumping all of its contents onto the bench. A needle, a can of air freshener, two bags of weed, two other tiny bags of cocaine, and a bong. She was _crushed_. One of each of those four bags were slightly opened. New bags.

Did he really buy more? Was he really keeping this from her for this long?

_Shit_. He thought. This just had to fucking happen. Now she knew. Now she was pissed. Now she hated him. "I'm sorry." He turned to her, guilt clearly in his eyes. She flicked the cigarette into his face, causing his eye to twitch.

He apologized; why didn't that work?

"Fuck you." She said slowly. "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you."

That was the most he had ever heard her curse in their entire relationship. That is, if it was still stable. At this point he was fully aware that perhaps at this point in time she would've had enough and would dump his ass right then and there. She'd lock the door and most likely shun him from her remaining time on the planet.

He wasn't ready for it.

All thoughts of marrying the man who fucking lied to her in her fucking face vanished. Now she knew she couldn't do it. What else could he be hiding?

She fell to her knees and just stared at him, crying. That's what she did best. That's all she could do. Getting back up on her wobbling knees that hurt from the impact of the hard cement of the roof, she walked back to the ladder and climbed back down, wiping her eyes.

This time she didn't even bother turning around to him calling her. she didn't answer to him trailing after her. she pushed his hand away from hers as he tried to stop her and hold her and apologize again. It was too late. She slammed the door behind her and locked it. Fuck.

_Author's Note: For Hinata's new haircut, here: ./_1X5ZeTMwu30/TT6Pdahs3rI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/P8ZnjhaN5wo/s1600/tumblr_l6n43y8Fbc1qcbd2jo1_._

_I think I wrote this chapter rather well. And I'm posting it because I probably won't write all week as I regain my composure and focus on preparing for Otakon 2011. I'm cosplaying as Haruhi Suzumiya this year, fuck yeah!_

_If you're going let me know, haha. But um yeah. ((: _

_-brandfuckingnew_


	15. Chapter 15

You're Welcome.

He didn't understand why he was even at the bar he brought dragged his legs into. The music was too loud for his liking. Cages filled with women wearing provocative clothing hung from the ceiling, as they began to shake their bodies around and dance to the music, making men who sat at tables right under said cages drool like pigs.

He didn't even feel like he was alive. He felt like he was dead. He should be.

And then soon, he was being dragged against his own free will into a dark, violet painted room, with only a loveseat in the corner and a bed that had drapes of violet curtains bordering it. He couldn't even see, everything was blurry, and all he could feel were hands grip his member and tug his pants down as the tiny person also pushed him back against the bed.

Why was he even here? He should be at home. He should be apologizing, which is he was doing for over forty minutes as soon as she had locked him out. He had tried to go downstairs for a spare of keys or something, but was told "Hyuuga-san doesn't want anyone else to enter and I am only following orders."

Which to him, was complete bullshit.

So now he was only in his boxers and had his sweater being tugged off by female's hands. He closed his eyes just imagining it was Hinata, the female's touch felt like hers, only it was a bit more forceful and rough. Eyes snapping back open, he noticed as the female gave him a sly smirk, running her fingers through his chest. He frowned.

This wasn't Hinata. This wasn't even his bed, he knew that much.

And yet the girl's glasses were slowly disappearing off of her not so attractive face. The woman's spiky, pink hair was slowly turning straight and a dark black. The female's side bangs were turning into bangs that covered her complete forehead. The girl's eyes weren't russet red anymore, they were adjusting into a white, beige color. She was turning into Hinata, in his eyes, in his vision.

He wasn't seeing the stripper who had a bad case of herpes on her bottom lip. He was seeing the woman he loved and the woman he lied to not too long ago. He was in a foreign room, walls were a dark violet, the bed itself was comfortable and all but it just didn't _feel_ right, and that was the only thing in his mind that triggered him to believe that he wasn't supposed to be here, otherwise his spinning head would've agreed to whatever he was doing without fully understanding the situation.

And he found himself flipping their positions over, him now on top of her, as she was only wearing her bra and her tight short shorts that framed her lack of ass—he tried to grib it but let the girl's bottom go, it wasn't Hinata's, but he considered it to be the second best. He began to bit her skin around her neck, harder and harder, just as Hinata would've done to him. He tried to claim the Hinata he saw in his eyes before anyone else.

Even though it _wasn't_ her, the girl was the next best thing to her. She would be for a long time.

Suddenly, he stopped, and stared at her, as Hinata's face went away and brought back the hideious creature underneath him.

He thought every woman was hideous compared to Hinata.

And now suddenly he wasn't just a liar, he was also a cheater. A lying cheater who didn't deserve her.

Snapping his eyes back wide, he rolled off the bed fast and began to pull on his jeans and his shirt. The girl on the bed only stared, eyes watery. "Is something the matter?" She said as she got up, walking after him as he began to leave the room, down the narrow hallway, towards the door that read "Exit".

"You're not her." He said briefly as he put on his shoes and his coat. He rubbed his eyes for a second as he pushed the door open and left through the backdoor.

xxx

So in the process of about only two hours, Sasuke had come to the realization that he was a complete asshole and should just chug a gallon of bleach and end it all. But he couldn't do that, not now, he'd do it some other time. At least once she forgave him. For now, he'd have to deal with being under a certain male's front doorstep's roof, shivering because it just wouldn't stop raining and it was just too damn cold outside for him to continue his path to the apartment. So he knocked and was greeted with surprised, blue eyes as a grin was formed and he was pulled inside the comfort of the small house that was in between two huge buildings.

Of course Naruto would live in something as tiny as this, not to mention he would be the one to purchase a place in such a business neighborhood. His job was _right next door_. "No wasting gas for me!" He had said when he fetched him a couple of blankets and let Sasuke keep warm near the fireplace. It was only March but it felt like December all over again.

"So, why are you here, baka?" Naruto slide himself into the comfort of his couch as Sasuke's back was against it.

"Shut up, dobe."

"Well then!" Naruto got up and sat himself next to his best friend who looked too annoyed to even be spoken to. "Considering you're crashing at my place for the next few days, it'd be great to know why you're my unexpected visitor!" He grinned.

Sasuke sighed, bringing his fingers through his wet locks of hair. "I got kicked out." He muttered, staring into the flames. He had the sudden urge to just throw himself into the fire and burn himself to ashes. The pain of the flames wouldn't last too long, he'd get used to the hot temperature and would fade away. And everything would go back to normal, slowly. He was willing to risk it.

Naruto pulled his shoulder back as he was leaning closer. Naruto sighed this time, gripping his friend's shoulders tighter. "Stop it, baka. You're being such a douche."

"I didn't _do anything_."

"Yeah, because Hinata-chan would so kick out a guy for doing absolutely nothing." He rolled his eyes. "Did you try apologizing?"

"Obviously." He wasn't in the mood to be told shit he already knew. He didn't need another lecture. What he needed was to forget that red-head who almost got him to fuck her and to erase all memories of it. He pulled out his bong and his stash out his pocket and began to smoke it. 

Naruto decided he had enough shit to deal with as it is and dropped the blankets next to him. "Here, stay for a few nights until you fix your problem." And he left the Uchiha alone in the dimly lit living room, as he brought the warm blankets over his freezing body and stuffed his bong and bag back into his coat.

He could always break into the apartment. But he had the chance of getting arrested, or worse, getting put a restraining order. He didn't want that. But he didn't want her to avoid him forever. He didn't want her to suddenly and slowly forget him and go back with _Kiba_. Not just with him, with anyone.

She was his, and no matter what, he'd keep it that way.

_Author's Note: Okay this chapter is short and stuff but that's because the next chapter is longer! Sorry if you were expecting a sooner update, I'm actually just all over this guy. (: _

_-brandfuckingnew._


	16. Chapter 16

You're Welcome.

He woke up to the feeling of extremely cold water being dumped all over his head, his eyes suddenly opening widely as he felt the freezing liquid that was dripping off of his head to his face. Growling, he noticed a smirking blond who held the bucket proudly with a sly grin. "Wake up, ya bastard! Time to go the hell back home, eh?"

This has been told to him practically every morning for the past week. It had been exactly a week since he was in the comfort of his bed with another source of warmth that _wasn't_ a blanket that radiated against him daily. He really missed her.

"She won't-"

"Shut the hell up with that 'w' word!" Naruto had his hands in the air, pointing at his bestfriend who looked as if he was going to commit a homicide. He was used to it. "I'm kicking you out of my living room now, whether you like it or not! Now go make up before she dumps your ass for taking so long!"

And suddenly dozens of mental images popped into his brain. Images of her smiling to someone that wasn't him. Images of her holding hands with another pair that weren't his. Images of her sleeping next to a guy that wasn't him. He wasn't sure what he felt the most just thinking of that: hurt, or rage that was slowly building up in his chest. His ribs were hurting.

"Fine."

He was planning on going there anyway. He couldn't stand being soaked every morning, much less having to tolerate Uzumaki's constant snores at four in the morning. The man already had purple bags under his eyes from smoking earlier that week—he hadn't since he was kicked out, that was the reason he wasn't home in the first place—and from staying up just staring at the ceiling, plotting out what to do when he got home, if he was allowed back, wasn't aiding said bags.

The Uchiha buttoned up his coat and scratched the tiny amount of stubble that was already forming on his chin. She never liked his stubble, so he always shaved it. Needless to say, staying at the Uzumaki's place wasn't exactly for his benefit and he didn't bother asking for a change of clothes or anything. Nor did he ask for a razor, she could deal with it. Maybe she'd feel bad for his lack of hygiene since being kicked out.

But he didn't want her to blame herself for his poor attitude on it, either.

Sighing, he frowned as he finally reached the top level of the apartment and was right in front of the door. He tried to turn the knock to find it open. Was she over it? Was she okay with him? Were they on good terms? He wasn't sure. He was extremely confused which frustrated him more. He didn't like being unsure over anything. It wasn't the Uchiha way.

The house was very much deserted. Was she gone too? Probably not. But he had time to shower at the very least, so he took advantage. He took his dirty articles of clothing and dumped them in the hamper as she grabbed a black v-neck that was a bit too deep but not enough to make you wonder his orientation and some black jeans, what he usually wore.

While also taking a shower he decided to make his stubble as noticeable as possible. Maybe she'd think he "grew up" literally while he was basically banned from his home. And maybe she'd regret saying those things to him, because although he deserved those hurtful words and so much more, it didn't make it hurt any else, especially coming from her.

So why was he nervous? He was just sitting in the living room, staring at the door, until she arrived. He could do it. He could wait how ever long it was necessary for her to walk through that door. He could push aside his pride and could do it. He occasionally looked over at the clock to his left and considered it enough time for her to be here by now.

Maybe she went out with friends. Maybe she was at chemo and was on her way back right now.

_Chemo_.

The sudden realization hit him hard in the head. Chemo was in the morning. It was already twelve in the afternoon. She should be home by now. But she wasn't. Where else could she be? At Kiba's stupid tattoo parlor? Doubt it, she couldn't even bare go accompanying him that one time to get the first word done on both of their arms, let alone go by herself.

Then why was he being paranoid?

Was being separated from her for so long having that much of an effect on him? He could do anything and would do anything to prove he was sorry. He would even tell her about the club incident that was only about a week ago. He would do anything for her to just take him back and never let go again. And he could get used to not wasting money on drugs. He could. And he really would.

But her not being home was making him anxious. And he was making his ribs hurt more, and he hated that feeling. He hated how he just couldn't get her off of his mind. And he was worried sick, as well.

Feeling a bit confident that she was still at chemo, he got up and made his way down the steps in a quick manner towards the hospital that was only a few blocks back.

She was fine; maybe it was just taking her a bit longer. Only a week had pasted since he last saw her. Nothing bad could've happened over a week.

Then why did it suddenly feel like the more he said "She's fine" in his mind that she really wasn't? Why did it feel like forever as he stood outside her hospital room tapping his foot impatiently, scratching his cheek a lot harder than usual?

Why did he feel like everyone there were giving him these meek, pity-like glares? They couldn't have known of anything. Maybe that's how people at hospitals were programmed in their minds or something. He always had hated hospitals. He hated the looks they gave you when you were ill, or when families lost someone dear to them and all the doctors would do or say were "We'll need you to file the death documents."

What kind of a world do we even live in? "Death documents"? A piece of fucking paper clarifying that you're obviously not alive anymore? It was bullshit to the Uchiha. And it worried him to no end. He wanted to storm into the room and just kiss her and hold her and apologize. He didn't care if she hated him. He loved her.

And he was preparing to show it. No more being a coward and staying away from her. This was his end point. He needed her, and he was sure she needed him.

So why did the solitude torment him so much? She was most likely behind that metal door. He wasn't allowed to walk in, not yet. Dr. Hatake told him to stay put, he'd be a disturbance, and frankly, he truly was. And he was irritated.

What was taking so long?

Was something wrong?

He had to find out, he didn't want the doctor to sugar coat bullshit and make the bad news sound like good news, because he wasn't going to fucking take it.

So he flung the door open, starling the nurse, as she was at her side, her eyes were closed, tight, her face was losing any inch of color. She looked horrible. Her hair was gone, completely. Her lips were chapped and pale as can be, her bandana was still in place on her empty head. The nurse gave him a glare and continued fiddling with the machinery surrounding her.

He wasn't sure why his ribs were aching more. It was a sense of reality. Something was wrong, and no one was telling him. Was she going to be alright? What even happened, anyway?

He didn't like being ignored. Not by her—even though she had every right and he respected that—but from anyone else, it was highly intolerable. "What happened?" He muttered as he was by her side, gripping her small, frail hand into his. She felt so distanced, so cold, so empty. He wasn't used to it. She was his warmth; she was supposed to make him tingle and feel right, not make his back shiver from how cold she was.

"She fainted." The nurse replied, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "She's not breathing, so we put her on life support for now. She'll be fine in a few hours." She reassured.

"Bullshit!" He shouted.

"Sir, I have to ask for you to leave, she needs rest, she will be _fine__**."**_

He stared at her for a few seconds, and looked down at the person he loved the most. Her lips were formed into a frown, and her chest was slowly rising once more. It was as if she was restarting, like a computer from being on hibernate for too long. He leaned it across the bed in which she laid and whispered into the nurse's face "If anything goes wrong I'll kill you." Although he knew he sounded way too hostile, he meant every word he said.

He didn't like being toyed around and lied to, he was intelligent, if need to be don't tell him anything but don't lie to him either. He wasn't up for sick jokes and games. He needed the truth, and for now, he'd have to deal with what the nurse was saying.

If she lied, he'd find her and kill her. His onyx eyes told her that he meant it. At that, she gasped a bit and pointed to the door to gesture him to leave. Staring back at the Hyuuga in bed, he gave her one last look and went back into the empty waiting room.

He wasn't ready for her to leave him forever, not yet. He had to apologize. What was he even saying? She'd be fine, the nurse said so, obviously going to a nurse school taught her to tell the truth always, right? Why would she lie? Of course Hinata would be fine. She was a strong woman. His woman.

He loved her.

So why did it hurt to be separated from her even longer? Why did it hurt to see her hair all on the floor? Why did it hurt to see those machines attached to her face, her arms, her chest—she was clearly covered—it just made no sense to him. Why her?

He would take anything for her. A bullet, a stabbing, cancer. Anything. He had no one else to live for except for her, he knew this. She did, too. He didn't care if he would die, that's what he wanted all along. The date for his early departure from life was postponed because of her. Had he not met her, he would've been gone.

Now, he had a purpose. And he was just about to lose it. And it wasn't sure if he could handle it. He wasn't sure if he could withstand to know that the person he loved with all his being was in her death bed right across the hall from him. And that life moved on without her, careless, everything and everyone were oblivious to the fact that someone as wonderful as her was leaving the planet slowly.

Leaving him.

He wanted to hold her. And call her beautiful, because she was. He wanted her to wrap her arms around him and he wanted to whisper into her ear and tell her he loved her, he would say it whenever he had the chance, he wanted to right now. But she couldn't hear, she was asleep, she wasn't awake, she wouldn't be for some time.

What if she left without hearing him out? He wouldn't forgive himself. He'd go insane. More insane than now. He needed a smoke, he needed to calm down. Drugs helped. They always did.

Being sober made him feel on the edge even more than usual. Being sober meant that reality hit you harder than it would've if he was high. Or drunk. Whichever. He hated being in hospitals. He hated how a family right next to him in the waiting room were already crying because Dr. Hatake had announced the kids' uncle died. He didn't want to be the next person to be told so calmly that he lost her.

He didn't want to lose her.

The Uchiha grabbed strands of his hair and tugged it impatiently as he stared at the door. The door to hell, he concluded. It would be until she was fine. Then it'd be the door to heaven. When he would see her pearly beige orbs once more, than he'd be okay. He could breathe properly until then. He could give her the smile she loved. His current frown would turn upwards with just the assistance of four facial muscles.

Her hand would grace over his. How cold they were, didn't matter. He'd warm her up. He could do that. Her smile could make his knees weak, and frequently did. He hadn't seen it at all for over seven days. Even in his dreams he was bewildered. Her smile could kill. And it would kill him even more if he never saw it again.

_Author's note: The suspense! Anyway, listen to Fireworks by You Me At Six. It's beautiful._

_-brandfuckingnew._


	17. Chapter 17

You're Welcome.

Her head hurt, a lot. She felt disorientated. She could hear some whispers and yelling, but she couldn't open her eyes to see where those sounds were coming from. She didn't want to startle anyone, she assumed in her mind that everyone thought she was in a deep heavy sleep. Her heart was functioning again; she didn't feel it just moments before. At least, she didn't remember.

She felt warmth on her hand, but she couldn't grip the other. She didn't want to. She was still far too upset with him. And in her gut that felt as though someone had kicked too hard, she knew that she should've. But her eyes were hurting, and her arms felt weak. And her head was pounding, and her legs were stiff.

Why was she even upset with him again? She missed him all week. Even though her inner stubborn side told her she did the right thing, she sure didn't feel it. She didn't feel anything anymore. She felt weak, way more fragile than before, and all she really wanted to do was listen to The Smiths with Sasuke—even though he hated them—because those two things were her true source of happiness. Anything with Sasuke made her happy.

Except his lies.

And that's what she never understood. Maybe, in the heat of the moment, she was upset, and she wasn't denying it, she truly was. She was more hurt than upset, though. Because he _lied_. He was well aware that she wasn't the type of person to get so angry, but she did, because he kept it from her this whole time. She was more upset with herself than him for not knowing sooner, for not putting more attention.

She wasn't upset anymore. She was over it. As long as he would forgive her for being so dramatic, and as long as they could both put that terrible week apart from one another, she was willing to start over. And she was hoping he'd stop the lies, the drugs, the everything. She just wanted him to be more honest with her. She wasn't one to judge anyone on anything.

In fact, from what she could re-call, she was the moderately calm person everyone turned to with their problems. He had no excuse to lie, he could've just told her and she would've tried to her best abilities to help. She could've done so much for him.

But she couldn't right now, not with so many needles into her arms and wires all around her tummy, her forehead, and the back of her palms. She felt inadequate to help anyone, especially him, right now. And she could feel him tighten his grip on her hand. How she wanted to return the favor, but she couldn't. it was as if the blood in her veins were frozen in time and she just lost all color because of it. She was pale, her lips were, too, and her face was sick.

And it was weird to her. Weird because deep down, she felt as if she knew what was going to happen next. She wouldn't wake up. She could feel it. She could feel her heart slow down, she felt her hair fall out during her chemo session earlier, before she fainted. And when she fainted the only thing she could think of was how sorry she was going to be for Sasuke.

She knew he hated pity, but she gave him it regardless. She didn't want to leave him, and abandon him. She knew that if he had done that to her, she'd flip. She'd do the most idiotic things ever. And even if she did, her elder cousin would look down on her and call her weak, and her Dad, oh, he'd give less of a shit. He disowned her life a long time ago. She grew up, he grew old.

And another part of her told her "Don't give up."

Maybe she didn't have to. She could feel him radiating to her. And then she didn't. She felt him walk away, and she heard the slamming of the door. She felt the nurse's cool fingers trace her arm and back, flickering more switches on more machines that made an annoying sound that irritated her inside. But she didn't show it, how could she, she was technically in a coma.

"I don't understand how someone as pretty as you puts up with that attitude!" The nurse yawned, laughing a bit mockingly. She brought her remaining golden locks behind her ears, tugging them back for her face to be completely free of anything blocking her golden matching eyes. The woman was a bit thin and slender, even though her uniform showed otherwise.

Hinata didn't think the nurse knew that she heard and was hearing every little thing she was saying. She sort of wished she'd wake up again, she really needed to slap her for her rude comment that was highly un-necessary.

But all her life, that's all Hinata did. She'd get offended. Over everything. She didn't want to, she wish she didn't feel what others chose not to. She was on guard and her feelings were always so easily shown. You could tell when she was upset, happy, calm, depressed, anything. Her face was like an open book and she honestly wishes countless times that she could close said book. It did her no good.

She, of the other two youngest Hyuugas—her older cousin Neji and her little sister Hanabi who still remain out of the "picture" of her health status—was the only one who felt anything remorse anymore. Ever since she lost her Mother, things changed. Her life changed. The one person who would wander through the night, sometimes at around as early as two in the morning, into her room, was gone. She just left like that.

Her Mother changed. The one glimpse of happiness that was visible in her pupils slowly faded as soon as Hanabi was born. Her mother's smiles were more rare than ever. They were forced half of the time. And her rays of sunshine vanished, and instead brought clouds of sadness. Her mom rarely got up and did the chores she was entitled to do, she'd have the maids do it, and usually she was the woman in charge. She didn't depend on anyone for anything.

Dinners were terrible. Hiashi would come in late, causing her Mom to look down at her half eaten plate and she'd play with her fork and look at Hinata for a few moments and then back at her plate, and without another word, she'd get up and leave the room.

She slept in the guest room since that dinner. Hinata remembered that night. That night that Hiashi came home late, and he had his shirt undone a few top buttons, and his perfectly straight hair was a bit messier than usual. Hinata was only eleven, she didn't know what was going on. She didn't remember very well. Her Mom blinked a bit at his appearance and scurried off. She didn't leave her room for days.

And then she had enough. She was done with dealing with an inconsiderate husband who didn't love her anymore. She was done with having to smile and grimace next to him at public affairs with other associates at occasional parties. She was done dressing up for him, she was done sleeping next to him every night, she was done with him, period.

And so she did the greatest sacrifice she would've ever done. She left both Hanabi and Hinata with Hiashi. She didn't have money, she wasn't going to take it. She signed off the divorce papers and left it on Hiashi's desk weeks after. He signed them in a rush without reading the fine print and they were over. 

Hinata never saw her Mom again.

And Hiashi stopped whatever he was doing that made her leave in the first place. His face was as stone-like and cold as it had been before the late arrivals to supper. He didn't say much. He kept those papers to himself dearly, because he had no idea where she was and that was the only thing she left behind.

And that's what Hinata didn't want to happen. She didn't want to tolerate Sasuke because of her very own insecurities. She didn't want to leave him when she was tired of it. She wanted him to just stop. And she was sure that perhaps a week without him was well worth it. Perhaps that alone made him think twice before committing such an idiotic thing. She was hoping that whenever she woke up, he'd value her more.

She didn't want to end up like her Mom, and leave her battles, or worse: Leave, period.

She smiled to herself in her dreams, as she tried to move her hand. No luck. It was weird, she didn't feel _anything_, but the slow breaths coming from her slowly pounding heart. Her ribs felt numb, her eyelids felt heavy, heavier than they have ever. She wanted to blink, and she tried, but none of her body parts were reacting.

Was she _dead_?

She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything at this point. All she could do was panic in her mind. She could hear the Nurse sound a bit nervous as she most likely bit her lip and muttered "Shit, no response!"

The nurse didn't necessarily make Hinata feel at ease. Was she dying?

Suddenly, her chest felt like it was sucking up her life. Understatement, she felt worse, but still. It felt as though she was burning, and she couldn't put the fire out on herself. She was dying. Or was she just weirdly waking up? She could feel her fingers again.

She was fine. At least she was fine. She sighed in relief in her mind as she could feel the Nurse's cool fingertips tough all over her flushed face yet again. "Whoa, almost scared me there for a sec!" The nurse chuckled as she flicked switches on and off once more. This was getting on Hinata's nerves. She just wanted to see Sasuke's face again, in person, no more delusions or dreams or day dreams—where they night dreams? She had no idea what time it was—whatever, she just wanted to see _him._

"Sir, you can't be here!" The nurse huffed, clearly annoyed, as the fingertips on Hinata's bare arms disappeared. Was she pushing someone out or something?

"Why don't you get out!" He barked.

And then there was a slam of the door, and a click because clearly he locked the door as well. So now it was just the two of them. And she still couldn't open her eyes. But she felt her hands being taken into his. She could feel him just inches from her dried out face. She could feel his fingers wander over her bare head.

Right, she was bald. At this, she wanted to cry. All of her hair was gone. Would he think less of her now? Would he stop pretending that this wasn't happening and would embrace her for herself now? Would he stop thinking of her as beautiful?

Was he lying that she was? Was he going to abandon her?

His kisses along her jaw said otherwise. She wanted to shiver under his touch. He just continued to plant kisses all over her cheeks and her forehead and then finally, her lips. She mentally shuddered. She wanted to kiss him back. She probably would've felt hurt if he was in the bed instead of her and if she had kissed him and he didn't return it, she would've felt this empty feeling in her stomach.

She probably would've cried. She forced all of her power into her hand that was holding onto his and her fingers wrapped around it. She heard a low gasp coming from him and she could only imagine that he noticed her small movement.

His fingers rubbed over her hand, but a bit more gentle. She could feel his cool breath tickle her face, and she tried to show it, but couldn't. she couldn't do much. She felt paralyzed. Was she? She tried to point her finger to herself, hopefully he'd understand why.

"They said you'll be fully awake in a few hours. I didn't know you'd start so soon." He ran his fingers over mine, and did so repeatedly. "I'm sorry. About everything."

Was he lying? Did he look willing? She wish she could've seen the look on his face when he said it. He never apologizes. The fact that he did made her smile a bit, but of course with her parallelization, she couldn't show anything.

"I thought you were going to go." He muttered mainly to himself. He sighed a bit, shifting into the chair—the loud chair that he dragged right next to her, and if she could move, she'd cringe—uncomfortably. "And I didn't want you to, without hearing me out. You can hear me, right?"

She tightened her small grip on his hand.

"I'll take that as a yes?"

If only she had the ability to laugh at him, he was just too cute. And even though she was still upset with him, she could get over it. He was sorry. He admitted that. And he kept holding her as if he hadn't seen her in a very long time, years, almost.

But it's only been a week. Did he care that much? It surprised her.

Her insecurities of not being important to him obviously vanished. But what if she couldn't say anything anymore? What if she was going to be stuck like this forever? Would he still love her as he did right then and there?

Holding her hand up, she tried to make it as though she was writing something down. She could see him through her eyelids, but only a bit. Getting the hint, he got up and brought her a pen and paper. Settling it right next to her, she brought the pen slowly onto it and began to scribble down something. When she dropped the pen, she also dropped her hand onto her stomach.

He lifted the paper, stared at the words that he was glad to have ever read.

"_I'm sorry too. Just don't lie to me anymore."_

Did she really? Was she forgiving him? He was just going to accept it, without questioning her. She looked tired. She didn't seem like she could continue writing to confirm his insecurities. And he could do that. He was going to. It was refreshing to know that she felt just as bad about the whole thing anyway.

Squeezing her hand, he kept his head at the crook of her revealed neck. He could probably stay in that position for a long time. He was glad he thought of locking the door. If anyone was going to be by her side when she was fully and completely awake, it'd be him, not some stupid, annoying nurse who clearly was just as irritating to Hinata as she was to him.

He snuck his hand under the silky robe she wore and set his free hand on her flat stomach. She could feel the chill of warmth hit her frozen-feeling body. His hand just sat there on her stomach, and she could hear his soft breaths as his head snuggled more into her neck.

She smelled just as good as he remembered. It scared him a bit to know that it had been a week since he could smell her. Which may sound weird and all, but every night, he'd stay in the same exact position he was currently in when they were back at home, and he'd just hold her and only then would he have a nice, good sleep.

And he did sleep the past week, but it just wasn't the same. Not up until now.

He felt good. At a hospital.

He hated hospitals.

_Author's Note: I hope this chapter was good! I'm on summer break now so I have PLENTY of time to write more chapters and make them longer and less stupid. I'm not really good at writing, I'm still a bit rusty from my extremely long hiatus over a year and a half ago. We'll see! And this week has been terrible. I can no longer cosplay, which sucks, because the website in which I ordered my Haruhi costume said it was out of stock and so they refunded my cash._

_Oh well!_

_-brandfuckingnew._


	18. Chapter 18

You're Welcome.

She buried her hair into his neck as he tightened his grip on her legs. She was still in her robe, and she was awake, after two months of a practically convincing, almost permanent, slumber. She had managed to not move for about two months. Two months that practically teased the relieved Uchiha as he stopped at the cross-walk, with people in their vehicles staring at the man carrying the love of his life who blushed furiously at the attention. Was it the fact that she was still in a hospital robe that revealed her entire back or was it how she was perfectly free of any hair on her head? Her hair would've hid her backside, but of course, being bald prevents that.

Not like she really cared anymore, it was only a matter of time.

Even so, she did feel a bit ridiculous as he carried her across the empty streets towards the apartment. She did feel silly as her fingers wandered through his silky hair as her legs wrapped around his torso to keep hold of him as they continued towards the elevator. The stares they received weren't much appreciated, but were tolerated over all. she didn't and shouldn't have ever cared for what people thought. People thought shit for no reason, and it was annoying. She only cared for one person's opinion and said person was on his phone, his finger sliding across the blank screen, with a frown on his face.

But frowns were natural. Frowns were his signature "smile". She could never prove he had ever graced his gorgeous face with one; he would only flash her them but even so, those smiles were rare. And she had always treasured them and would for a long time.

He looked at her briefly as the elevator continued to rise higher and higher to their level after catching her staring at him and gave her a small smile, which obviously made her heart skip a few beats. In her condition that wasn't necessarily healthy, but he tended to do far worse without even trying to her. She didn't mind.

Un-locking the door with his set of keys, he opened it for her to enter, which she did with a small nod and smile. She was too cute. Her bandana was still on her empty head, but he didn't care. She'd get it back. She was staying and he was quite positive she knew she was as well. She was fine, and she would be for a long time. A few more sessions to go. She wouldn't leave him without telling him. Everything was going to be alright in his eyes. 

"Hey, I'll cook." He pushed her lightly towards their room a bit mockingly. "I even bought this for this occasion." He pulled out what she least expected it to be, a navy blue apron. He brought it over his neck and tied it tight. "How do I look?" The amusement in his eyes didn't vanish.

"Extremely c-cute." She laughed as she sat on one of the chairs outside of the wide and huge kitchen. Neither of them actually used the kitchen. It just stood there for the most part. He walked behind the island, refusing to not look at her. His frown increased more downwards. She laughed.

"Cute?" He deadpanned, his frown still in place. Hey, he asked! "I take that back, you're helping. Go change into something old or shit." The amusement flared on his face once more briefly as she rolled her eyes and used her hands to latch onto the walls as she walked slowly into the room. The weakness in her legs was slowly going away, but still, she had to be careful.

She quickly pulled off her obnoxious, dull robe and changed into an oversized baseball tee, the sleeves a navy blue and the remaining of the shirt all white, while also pulling on a pair of shorts that were in her left drawer. Crawling out the huge crack of the door, she slowly walked back towards the kitchen, trying not to laugh at what she saw. Sasuke was tried to mix what seemed to have been pancakes—the box of the pancake mix was next to him so it wasn 't difficult to figure that out. He had powder on his cheeks, and some of the mix on his nose. She laughed lightly.

"What?" He looked at her, taking in her appearance. Even though she had changed and done nothing else in the last five minutes that she was gone into the room, she was still beautiful. He was being completely honest with himself, she was perfect. Even with no scalp and no makeup or anything, she was gorgeous. It still surprised him how everything or anything she did never made her look bad. His eyes wandered at how her shorts were tight enough to frame her thin thighs, as the gap between both was not as small as it was before. She had lost too much weight but even so, she looked fine. Her shirt didn't frame her curves, but he could still see them, even from where he was staring.

Thank God for see-through shirts. He could already feel himself get a bit hot from just picturing the shirt off along with everything else. He then realized that what he was picturing would have to wait and he would have to go back to his stupid pancake performance. This was for her, after all.

"H-here, let me get it." She took the mixing stick from his hand with a swift motion and began to stir the remaining ingredients into the bowl. He just stared at her. Okay, so maybe it was best she did it. She had this smile plastered across her delicate face, and she bit her bottom lip a bit as she continued to stir with the bowl at hand. And he just watched. "…there." She smiled at him, and handed him the bowl.

"Tch." He took the bowl and plastered some of the gooey substance onto the pan on the well heated stove. The pancakes sizzled. "How many do you want?"

"Um." She fiddle with the helm of his collar causing him to look down at her. "I'm not r-really at all hungry."

She didn't have much of an appetite these days.

"So what do you wanna do?"

Was he putting in effort? Before she could answer she pointed behind him to the stove and the Uchiha cursed under his breath as he turned off the stove to see two burnt as fuck pancakes that were crisp black. "Fuck." He dumped the remains of the pancakes off the pan into the garbage can and then grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the couch in the living room.

"We could go to the m-movies?" She hated her stutter but she just wanted to get out of the house. She didn't like being at home all the time. I mean it didn't really matter to her what they did as long as whatever they did was done together. But still. She had been dying to see _50/50_. It seemed like it was appropriate in her scenario and she needed something to calm her down about it. It was a comedy about cancer.

Maybe she could laugh at the irony.

As they reached the theater, she only gripped his sleeve as he bought the tickets. She felt like a little girl when standing next to him. He was a giant compared to her. He didn't really notice it but he figured that she would be fine. With an indifferent face, he held her hand as they entered the crowded theater. He led her further at the very top row where the leather seats were situated. Instead of having separate chairs, he pulled one of the stands off his chair so that both of their seats turned into a couch for themselves.

They were the only ones in that row.

As the previews started, she sipped her Cola without another word, but would occasionally give him a peck here and there on his cheek and chin. And then as the kisses progressed all he would do is turn his head so that her lips crashed onto his and he would lean into the chair and just pull her closer, his hands pushing her back as her chest touched his.

The irony was that she couldn't bring herself to pay attention to the movie. It just reminded her how short her life truly was.

Everyone's life is short, actually. Everyone eventually dies. She just didn't see the justice into hers being taken away from her so soon. Not when she was so happy. With him. It just wasn't fair. It fucking sucked. She had to treasure every moment with him when she could have them forever and die at an old age.

She hated her life yet wished she could have it for just a bit longer.

"The movie's over."

"O-oh."

They both held hands—she was still sipping her Cola—as they wandered about the city. She wished she had the energy to do something fun. But she really didn't. Which just made her sad.

"Let's goto the carnival." He muttered. She looked up at him. He held as grimace as he stared at the banner that was plastered on the building on the other side of the busy road. A carnival. Sounds fun. It sounded like a huge distraction. She needed it.

She tugged his sleeve and pulled his face towards hers and kissed him gently. "Okay."

The idea of going to a carnival wasn't how she anticipated it to be. She thought she was going to just see a few rides, some guys selling cotton candy, and a few kids. But no, it was more, and it made her smile gently. It was getting a bit darker, so all of the lights that dangled around each stand and ride were rainbow colored. It felt really calming.

Some kids screamed in joy on each ride—from the Ferris wheel to the small roller coasters—and others cried from losing to those obnoxious money wasting games where you'd throw a ball to hit the milk bottle for a prize. But one of those crying kids caught her eye—it was the boy from the cross-walk! She pulled Sasuke towards the milk-bottle game and pat the boy's shoulder. He turned.

"Oh, it's you!" He rubbed his wet eyes, his eyelashes damp, and stared at both her and the slightly irritated Uchiha. He didn't care about the boy. He only cared about her. But I mean if this kid makes her happy, then he'd just have to roll with it. "Is he your husband? Darn!"

'_Darn'_? He mentally thought. What was this kid's problem?

"W-what! No!" She blushed and squirmed as she tried to let go of his grip on her hand. He tightened it. Who cared if he thought they were married? They might as well should be.

"That's so cute! You're married! Congratudalations!" The boy smiled, completely oblivious to his mis-pronunciation of the word. He was so cute. His dirty cheeks, stained with tears, glowed a slight pink as he took Sasuke's other hand and gave him a high five with his tiny one. "Treat her well, mister!"

_Did this kid assume I didn't treat her well?_ He seemed a bit offended but brushed it off. The kid was obviously too stupid to know that he would never, ever, treat her any less than she truly deserved. And truth be told, he didn't deserve her. Which is why he was lucky enough to have her now while she was with him.

"I do." He squeezed her hand and she gave him a soft smile.

"Well, good, mister!" The boy grinned. "Could you help me get that turtle over there? I can't do it! And I wasted all of my coins!" He whined.

"Of course he will." Hinata reassured, making Sasuke roll his eyes without her looking as he dug into his pocket and pulled out three hundred yen and set it on the table. He grabbed a ball and threw it with no effort at all three of the bottles, shattering them instantly. He pointed towards the turtle and the man behind the stand nodded with a grin and handed it over to the Uchiha, who then later gave to the little boy.

"Thank you, Mister!" The kid scurried off to his parents—the two lesbians were sitting at the bench talking until he show them the thing he didn't win, causing the more masculine-female to bring the boy to her lap and laugh with him over it.

"Oh well hey, you're pretty cute." The guy behind the stand beamed at the flushed Hinata. "Did you want a free gift or somethin'?"

The Uchiha just stared as the guy vaguely flirted with _his_ girlfriend right in front of him. Did he not notice them still holding hands? Was this guy that retarded? This just caused him to get more irritated. He could just throw one of the stupid balls at his head. _Then_ he would get the hint.

"Um, no thanks."

Good. She knew he was tense. She knew that this upset him greatly. But she didn't want to be rude either. "Thank you, though."

And so both of them wandered around the carnival. They climbed on the ferris wheel for a while. Their reached the very top, and she could see how beautiful the bottom of the city looked. It was weird. She saw so many old faces from primary school. She saw Naruto at the bottom giving Sakura a piggyback ride—how cute—Ten Ten with her cousin, who she hadn't seen in a long time. The wheel wasn't so high that she couldn't see their faces, she saw them all perfectly from the top.

Sighing, she sat back into the booth that shook softly. His head was too busy burying itself into her neck, so he didn't mind the silence. It felt nice. Maybe he should ask her for her hand or something. It could be now or never. And what was more romantic than to be on a ferris wheel at night? Especially with all the stars above them glowing. Now was the perfect opportunity to pop the question. He was only hoping he wouldn't get rejected.

"Hinata."

"Yes?" He brought her chin up with his index finger. Her lower lip quivered as her eyes widened, surprised.

"Did he bother you what that kid said?"

He swore she turned into a darker shade of red. "N-no! Not at all! It's just, h-he didn't know, and I didn't know what to s-say." He could already see her eyes getting watery. No, he didn't want her to cry. He wouldn't permit it.

"Then marry me."

It came out low but she could hear him. His eyebrows twitched as her eyes got a bit bigger than before. Was he serious? They had never discussed it! She felt like she was going to faint, but she decided against it.

"You haven't said anything." He stated. Was he getting impatient with her? No. He was just hurt. Did she really have to think about it? He thought this was what she wanted. And she did. But for some reason it seemed so sudden. She blinked a few times.

"I-"

"You don't want to marry me." He clarified.

"I didn't-"

"It's fine."

And then she felt cold drops of her tears run down her cheeks. "Could you l-let me finish my sentence?"

"By all means?"

Where they really going to argue about it? Of all things she hated, she hated fighting with him over silly things. "I love you." She said.

"I assumed such."

"Do you love m-me?"

Her lip trembled.

His eyebrow arched.

"I do."

"Do you want to marry me?" Her eyes felt glossy. She ignored the burning feeling on her face.

"If I didn't," He ran his fingers up her throat. "I wouldn't have asked."

She opened her mouth and then shut it quickly. This was so hard. She didn't know how to say it. Inside, she felt like she was going to float from so much happiness. But the thing that prevented her from doing so was how serious he looked. His glare could've been a bit less hostile.

"I-"

"Let's not get married then, since it seems to be such a hard thing to answer."

And the subject was changed like that.

The walk home was just as silent. He didn't look at her at all. Why was he mad? He didn't let her finish. He didn't wait for her to tell him how she felt about it. She felt like she got slapped in the face because of his silence. He didn't even tell her goodnight. He slept in the couch.

Until she got up from not being able to sleep.

She crawled on top of him in the living room to hear him silently groan from the discomfort of her on top of him. "What are you doing?"

She kissed him to shut him up.

"Get off, I'm tired."

"I love you."

"Yes, you've said it before."

"L-let's get married."

"What?"

"I want to marry you." A blunt, straight-forward answer.

He stared at her. Even though it was extremely dark in the cool room, he could still see her bright, white eyes. They looked like glass again. He felt a water drop on his chin but ignored it. What was he going to say now?

He dug his hand into his back pocket and pulled out the silver ring he had been keeping safely in said pocket for a long time. He silently slid it onto her finger.

Her reaction could've _not_ involved her crying, but she did anyway.

_Author's Note: Ugh wow, I love my story so much. Not to be self-centered about it. I just love it. Like, a lot. Review please! :) _


	19. Chapter 19

You're Welcome.

Uchiha Itachi made his way out of the cab, paying the driver with a bit more than he honestly deserved. He didn't see the point into buying a car. He liked being able to see the world from the back of a car with someone else driving attentively. He wasn't an attentive person. He was a pacifistic, pessimistic individual who didn't like to be told what he already knew. He didn't like it when people assumed he was ignorant of anything. He was intelligent enough to figure out most things on his own, without anyone's help.

His left hand was carrying his suitcase, as his other was buried into his pockets. He liked walking. He liked being able to make eyes turn to him, because secretly, he loved attention. So that he could give it back. So that he his red eyes could scan over every person that stared at him, and he could see through them and figure out why they were staring. Evidently the Uchiha was attractive, so the majority of the time, that was the cause.

But sometimes, he would wish something would happen to him that someone would get as close as it was permitted, and would cause him to change his views on life. He was never the type to encourage violence. He was never the type to get impatient with anything, anyone. He was never frustrated, and when he was, it was only when it came down to his little brother. The only person he had left.

His eyes landed onto the petite female who tugged a teal beanie to cover her complete head. She wore capris, black flip flops, and a stripped tank top. She was covering her arm with a paper, and she was nibbling at her bottom lip as she walked slowly past him.

Wasn't that…

He nearly dropped his suitcase as he turned swiftly and walked a bit fast enough to tap her shoulder. She was cold. It was sixty seven degrees out, cloudy afternoon. Why was she cold? She turned with a light stain of pink on her cheeks. How cute. No. He couldn't think that. He wasn't entitled to do so. His brother was.

"U-um." She stuttered as she continued to look down at her arm and press the paper towel tighter. "Yes?"

He was curious as to what was on her arm. Was she bleeding? No. Couldn't be. Sasuke wouldn't have permitted it. At all. "I've met you before, correct?" She was the same girl who came over his apartment once. Only once. He still remembered her. He scanned her again but noticed she had no hair left. The last time he saw her, her waves of violet tinted hair reached the mist of her lower back. Did she think that bald was the new style? Whatever it may be, it wasn't his concern. Even though he was curious. God forbid Sasuke's older brother for caring, even in the slightest over someone he barely knew!

"U-um, I think s-so." Biting her lip again.

"Have coffee with me." He offered. She squirmed under his gaze. He didn't know he was directly in front of her, reducing her personal space. He backed up a bit. She gulped a lump down her weak throat.

"I'm not sure if-"

He tried not to laugh. But he showed her a soft smile. She gave him a confused look. Did she really not know who he was? "I'm his brother."

"O-oh!" She blushed darker. "I didn't know he had a brother."

He expected much. Why would Sasuke mention someone he despised so much? Of course he wouldn't. He knew his little brother so well. And he also knew that speaking to her was _wrong_ but he didn't want the opportunity to pass by him like that. He wanted to know what Sasuke chose not to tell him. "Come." He walked past her towards the closest shop, which was about two blocks further North of their current spot on the busy sidewalk. He knew she was following her, but occasionally he'd stop so that she'd catch up. She used her injury—he assumed such—as a distraction as she began to walk side by side next to him.

It felt weird. She only walked with Sasuke. She had to hold her grimace walking next to his older brother who terrified her—sort of. It felt like she was betraying Sasuke. She usually told him whoever she hung out with, where she went, and why. Even so…if anything ended poorly she'd let him know later. She was a bit taken back at the news of how Sasuke had an older sibling. She wished he had told her.

He opened the glass door, permitting a few bells to ring to announce their arrival, and held it for her as she muttered a "T-thank you." while walking past him, him entering last. He arched a brow as she sat at a table in the far right hand corner of the small shop, the only spot where there wasn't a window for anyone to see them. Did she not want anyone to see them together? It was just coffee. He wasn't doing anything more than that, no intentions of that, really.

When Itachi sat down, she spoke up as she fiddled with the helm of her shirt. "Ano, what did y-you want to talk a-about?"

"How is he?" It was quite obvious that the way he said it apart from the way he looked when he said it made it clear he was worried. But of course an Uchiha would not actually admit that. Too much damn pride.

"He's f-fine! He went to go pick up his medicine." She smiled.

'_She seems so cheerful, but it's a disguise. She's finding something from me.'_ He mused.

"Why does my little brother need medicine?"

"Um." She bit her lower lip. "They're…" She trailed off and then sighed. "Anti-depressants."

"I see." He vaguely remembered the day Sasuke came back home from the hospital after his third attempt. He assumed he just went around to picking those up. He was pretty sure he was prescribed those pills and he was also aware that he most likely, like the idiot he was, threw them out for being too dependent on his ego. As expected, anyway.

"Is there anything bad going on?" He murmured. He needed to know. If she told him about him about the pills his little brother needed, then she'd tell him everything else. He had every right to know, even if it meant he was prying for the information.

And she couldn't blame him. "Um, n-no!" She lied, uneasy.

"Miss Hyuuga, it'd save me a lot of time if you would please inform me of everything going on regarding you two. Are you having health problems of some sort?"

She did look paler, and her cheeks flushed again. Her eyes were getting watery. Did he offend her? He didn't mean to. "Miss Hyuuga, I didn't mean to offend you, I just really need to know."

She blinked a few times, trying to fight back tears. She bowed her head, as he narrowed his red eyes to stare as droplets came and stained the table's gray cover. Seconds passed, and a waitress approached them both, flirtatious, to top it off.

The strawberry blond licked her lips in a seductive manner—or a sad attempt at it, anyway—and turned to the serious Uchiha who grimaced. "What can I get you two?"

"Two cups of tea, please." He muttered. "And a glass of water for the lady, if it's no bother."

"Not at all!" The girl smiled, showing off her braces. A teenager. He tried not to give her a well deserved, disgusted look.

The waitress walked off, leaving them both alone at the table again.

"Are you going to tell me, or should I ask Sasuke myself?" He leaned in a bit, his voice a bit softer.

She looked up, eyes a bit widened. She wiped them, and gulped another lump down her throat. She seemed to do that a lot. Was it a bad habit? Sasuke had some pretty stupid ones as well.

"I, u-um, I have c-cancer."

He gaped a bit, and then went back to his usual, polite frown.

The waitress dropped their beverages in front of them both, smiled, and left.

She laughed awkwardly. "I'm s-so sorry for dropping some news like that so soon. And I'm s-sorry for crying!" She laughed again, a genuine smile on her face. "I'm g-g-going to be fine."

"Are you?"

She smiled. That was as much of an answer he was going to get.

He looked at her hand as she pulled her cup of tea closer, and started to stir hers with a plastic spoon. He did the same. Her finger had a ring on it. "The ring. What's it mean?"

"O-oh, it slipped my mind." She laughed again. "I'm s-s-sorry."

"You're both getting married?"

"U-um, yes."

'_How unexpected, yet completely understandable, given her circumstances. My brother must be in a lot of pain._'

"Miss Hyuuga, I didn't expect such good and bad news from you. I'm completely shocked and I'm…" He didn't want to say 'sorry', it was so out of character for him. He never used that word, strictly forbidden from his vocabulary. "Let met rephrase that, soon to be Mrs. Uchiha. Although your personal health problems are indeed a struggle, I sincerely wish you get better." She smiled at him, another tear falling down her cheek as she brought the warm cup to her lips. She paused to let him finish before she drank it. "But even so, I'm especially hoping nothing but the best for both of you in your own happiness."

"T-thank you, Uchiha-san." She smiled again. Her smile reminded him a lot of his Mother. It was un-canny how well they both matched.

"Feel free to call me Itachi, if you wish." He brought his cup to his lips, barely hearing her small sniffles as she drank hers as well, her other hand still pushing the paper tightly against her arm. "May I ask what you're covering on your arm?"

She blushed. This woman was filled with surprised facades. She lifted it, revealing four words. "I'm n-not sure what it'll be when it's done, it was Sasuke's i-idea." She blushed. "It's almost finished though."

_You are the smell._

In neat calligraphy, recently imprinted onto her pale, albino-like skin. He chuckled slightly, deciding _not_ to tell her what it would end up saying. He didn't want to ruin the surprise. If Sasuke intended for her to slowly find out, so be it.

"I'm surprised someone like you has the tolerance to take an ink to the arm, especially there." He laughed again. His laugh was velvet-like, smooth, and charming, she had to admit.

But Sasuke's was just more rare. And it was like a melody she never wanted to stop listening to. And she liked when he laughed because she knew that he only felt comfortable doing so around her.

"Well, it's for Sasuke, r-really."

"On _your_ arm?" He question.

She brought the paper back to her arm. "Y-yes." It didn't hurt barely anymore. She was used to it. And who cared? She was going to die soon anyway, unfortunately.

But she wasn't going to show the eldest Uchiha that she was frightened. She wasn't going to look weak. "Hyuuga-san, you don't need to mention our little conversation to my brother if you don't feel comfortable." He stated, standing. "It was a pleasure speaking to you." And with that, he left.

xxxx

"Where were you all afternoon?" Sasuke asked, his arm gripping the couch, wrapped around her shoulders as they stared at the television's pointless commercials. "I bought some CDs you might like and I thought we could listen to them or something."

"A-ano, I'm sorry." She smiled. "I stopped by for some tea."

"Ah."

"Do you want to show me the disks?" She asked. 

He got up and went to their room and returned with over ten albums.

_Deja Entendu, Like Vultures, Abbey Road, Your Favorite Weapon, Unknown Pleasures, Here,Hear. III, I'm Like A Virgin Losing a Child, Illuminate, A Flair For The Dramatic, The Hope Division._ All ten albums were now in both his and her laps. 

"So these albums are by Brand New." He picked both _Your Favorite Weapon _& _Deja Entendu_, and she stared at both album covers. "They're my favorite band." He murmured. "And here," He picked up _Unknown Pleasures_, laughing a bit. "Joy Division. Second favorite."

She smiled. His laugh was distracting her a bit. "No The Smiths?"  
>"I hate them." He shrugged. She gapped at him.<p>

"Why?" She squirmed and tried to move his arm around her but he obviously did not budge.

"Because you love them." He laughed again. "Anyway, this one's by All's Quiet." He passed her _Like Vultures_. "They're pretty good. I saw them live once last year. A-ma-zing."

"And this is Stick To Your Guns." He pointed to _The Hope Division_. "They're good."

"I thought all of the albums were good?" She laughed this time.

"In my view, some of them are better than the others."

"Anyway, I want you to listen to these guys." He got up and put in a disk into his…xbox? "Oh, yeah, about that. I bought it too." He shrugged.

Whatever, it's not like she can tell him he can't buy things with his own money. She didn't mind. "It's fine." She laughed. "Go ahead, play it." She brought her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees.

And suddenly the voice of the guy—a high voice, might she add—infiltrated the living room, as he lowered the television's volume to complete mute.

"_Because maybe I'm a fake, maybe you're to blame."_ The song continued within a blink of her eyes. They were good. She'd have to listen to them more.

"They're Pierce the Veil." He explained, breaking the silence. Not that she honestly minded. His voice was just as soothing as the song. "Probably one of the few bands I tolerate in the post-hardcore genre."

He noticed her arm and a smile appeared on his dull face. "I see you got three more words done. Only two more to go."

"I'm going to w-wait a bit for those." She laughed. "I was going to a-ask earlier, what is it supposed to mean?"

"It's a song from one of these ten albums. Listen to them all." He smiled.

That was weird. Was this a test? Ignoring the stupid question in her head, she leaned her head onto his shoulder and just let the music drift her into a sleep. She was tired.

It seemed as though she would be tired often from here on out.

She wasn't sure if this was a good, or bad thing, really.

All she could do was replay the coffee shop, and the conversation she had with his brother earlier. A conversation she would never mention to Sasuke, ever.

_Author's Note: Welp! I thougth this chapter was pretty good. It'd be uber-cool if I could get over 100 reviews, and no, I don't want one-word reviews, because I don't really gain anything from them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story. And yes, listen to those albums. They're amazing. All of them._

_-brandfuckingnew._


	20. Chapter 20

You're Welcome.

Hōzuki Suigetsu narrowed his purple eyes at his customer's finger. He tried not to snort at the piece of gold that wrapped around the man's finger. "So, you're a married man, huh?" He asked as he flipped open his cigarette box and threw the cig into his mouth. The violet-eyed man stanned his customer with a grin and offered him one out of his box. "Take one, consider it as a 'Congratulations' gift."

"I don't smoke anymore." He muttered, a small smirk on his face as well.

Suigetsu gave him a skeptical look. "You don't say." He threw the box at his customer who unwillingly caught it in his palms. "Take one, idiot." Suigetsu flicked his lighter and lit up his cig as he brought it roughly to his mouth and began to inhale the nicotine.

He didn't understand how his friend—he'd like to consider the Uchiha as such—could just give up the lung-damaging sweets.

"No." He threw the pack back at the confused, white-haired male. Was he serious? No. Couldn't be. The Uchiha was the _same_ guy who came to him for heroin not too long ago. What the hell happened since?

"Dude, were you fucking brainwashed or somethin'? You love cigs!" He furrowed his eyebrows as he threw the pack yet again at the still indifferent man who let it fall to the ground.

What was going on? Clearly this man isn't the same guy who paid in advance for nicotine whenever he needed it. Now he's clean? It's absurd. This was ridiculous. This man was not his friend.

"I just don't need them anymore." He shrugged. What was his ex-dealer's problem? Couldn't he see that he was trying to regain his health again?

"That's bullshit." Suigetsu spewed, as he let the fume get out the corner of his mouth, as the cig dangled at the other end. "If you don't need cigs, I'm sure you still need needles, right?"

"Negative." Sasuke smirked, as he crossed his arms against his chest, his back leaning against the brick wall.

"_What!_" This really irritated the pro-dealer. "What the hell, man? I only buy this shit for you! You owe me two hundred for this shit." He pat his pocket, and the Uchiha's eyes averted to him as he opened his huge coat, revealing the big, white box he oh, so wanted to snatch and just-

No. He couldn't. He would not!

"I didn't order another one, nor do I want it." Sasuke said, after clearing his throat, looking the other way. If he looked at something else, he'd be distracted. Looking at that box that was calling his name made his ribs ache. He would not tolerate that.

"What if I gift wrap it and just give it to you for your wedding gift? I'm sure the Mrs. would appreciate this shit." He laughed loudly.

"Shut the hell up."

"Oh, why the fuck should I?" Suigetsu took the box from under his coat and flicked the top open, as he pulled out the needle and substances. He brought the clean tip to his left arm vein, and stuck it in without looking, wincing a bit.

He could feel the drug pump through his veins all throughout his body, like adrenaline. "See? You love it! This isn't half bad, I might just keep this shit to myself next time." He laughed to himself. "I don't see how you could give this up, man. What happened?"

"It's none of your business." He muttered, as he tapped his finger quietly with his other finger.

"Aw, don't tell me the Mrs. is a bitch!"

"I said shut up."

"Oh, she is definitely why you're acting stupid." He dumped his white box into the trash bin that was underneath him as he jumped off of it to throw it in, and then hopped yet again on top of it. He grabbed another cig and lit it up and brought it to his lips again as well. "Why do you let a woman interfere with your happiness? Drugs make you happy. We're on the same page here, right? I don't get it, man."

"Shut up." He spat.

Suigetsu got off the bin, and walked over, standing right in front of his friend—at this point he wasn't sure how where their relationship stood anymore. "Tell her that I hope she dies! For being such a bitch! You could do better, man."

Before the dealer even noticed what was coming at him, Sasuke's fist flung into his cheek, as he was thrown against the other side of the alleyway. More punches were being thrown, harder and harder, at his eye, his stomach, and eventually the Uchiha resumed to kicking the man.

Suigetsu couldn't feel his stomach. He felt weak. Weaker knowing that his opponent in a fight he didn't even engage was gasping across from him in the narrow passage way, staring at him as if he were dirt. His hand in a weakly manner pulled back to his ribs, as he pressed down, trying to breathe properly. He coughed up some blood, his throat now dry.

He pushed his back against the brick wall, and took a few breaths. "What the fuck, man?" He coughed more, his other hand that wasn't on his chest wiping off the blood, using his long coat sleeve. "What the fuck…is wrong with you?"

The Uchiha crawled towards the dirty ground as well, trying to restrain himself. His knuckles were covered with blood. And shoes were stained with the red liquid as well. His onyx orbs stared at the puddle of the liquid instead of at the dealer.

"Was it something I said?"

Still no answer.

"Fuck, man, could you at least tell me why you bruised my fucking face and shit?"

Still silent, the Uchiha walked over to the injured dealer and held his hand out. "Come over for dinner."

"Why the hell are you avoiding the question?"

Sighing, the Uchiha held his hand again. "Considering how you most likely haven't eaten a home cooked meal in awhile, take the damn invitation."

Suigetsu stared at his friend in disbelief for what seemed like years. What was going on? First his friend decides to _reject_ an extremely expensive _gift_ that he without a regret offered, _then_ he punches him to a pulp, and now to make up for both the physical abuse and rejection, _he offers him dinner_. Did he look like some hobo or something ? Of course he hadn't had a home cooked meal in some time now, since he took his "career" as a dealer, but how fucking rude could you get?

He felt he did nothing wrong to the man, but to reject his offer at free food was just horrible. So he took the Uchiha's hand, as he helped the dealer get back up on his two feet.

xxxxxx

"I don't want you to mention your job nor do I want you to smoke anywhere near this building. Understood?" He muttered. Am I stupid to him or something? The guy wouldn't even hold the door for me when I followed him into the building! What a dick! What's his problem anyway? He wouldn't answer me earlier, and it's been bugging me since. I hope this free food thing serves for a purpose.

Or is this like those subliminal life lessons that you'd learn on some Disney show? Whatever, I just need some food. Finally, he speaks to me! "Don't make too much noise, she's probably sleeping." Is he really going to shut me up already?

Before I even mutter a rude comment, I take a look around the place. Not bad, for an Uchiha household, anyway. He left down the hall so I figured I had enough time to limp around his very long and elegant looking couch to view most of the frames on the glass table. All of them were pictures of her. And him. She's hot, not even going to deny that fact.

Her hair's really long. Up to her lower back, maybe. Her eyes, damn. Weird though, they're really beige looking and pale and shit. She's pretty. Yeah, I won't think too much about it or else it'll be awkward eating with her.

…Is that _the_ Sasuke Uchiha fucking _smiling_? How is that even possible! He's holding her and smiling at her, and she looks like she was laughing when they took the picture,which I must say, was in a very nice quality considering the camera's right next to the frame. I'm a bit jealous, it's a Nikon d3000. Anyway, I can't believe he's smiling!

What if she controls his emotions too? Whatever, I'll figure it out. I picked the frame with my free hand—the other one was holding my chest tightly, that guy beat me up pretty bad—and stared at their expressions. I guess you could say I was studying them? They looked so happy. I guess I'm a bit jealous.

I don't have much to say about happiness. I'm never happy. Happy is the gayest word in my vocabulary, yet I've used it three times in just three sentences. Hate that word. Instead of saying it in my head like I am right now, I will refer that term to "H".

They're both very "H", his eyes, which are usually cold and distant, look so care-free, and calm. Her hand is like a fucking chain around his. Very "H" indeed. I bet you they fuck on the regular, I can tell. Those aren't virgin eyes.

So I put that frame down and picked up another one. Weird. She's in a hospital bed. And she's bald. What the hell was she thinking? She can't pull off that look! She looks really pale here. And her eyes, look really watery, red-ish, as if she got a ton of salt in them. Her poor, beautiful eyes. Why does she look like she was crying?

How pathetic. Crying is for the weak. In this case, yes, I have never once shedded a tear. It's weird how both frames were next to one another. One frame of them "H", and the next…so depressing. I wonder what happened. I should ask her straight up, because this confusion is killing me. And Sasuke's just sitting there, next to her, holding her hand. And grimacing. A fake smile.

She's giving the camera one of those small, re-assuring smiles, the ones that you would give to yourself to stop yourself from thinking so negatively. Seriously, this is weird. They both look so depressed, sad, as if bad news killed something in them. As if something triggered a weird thing. And the frame next to it, where do I begin?

I put the one of her in the hospital bed down, and scoop up the next one in my hand. They're kissing. But it's not those lovey-dovey kisses, his hands are framing her small face, and she's still bald. Why didn't it grow by then? His eyes are shut tight, and so are hers. There's a tear down her cheek, and his are just really, really, pink; a light blush.

What was going on? Maybe they took that one after the hospital. I put the frame down, and look at the next one. They look so happy! She's holding a The Smiths vinyl or something, and her cheeks are so rosy! In this one she had long hair as well. Her eyes, they're really bright here. Wow, I just realized I used the "H" word. Oh, well. And Sasuke, what is he holding…porn? Not shocked at all. But his hand is almost possessively around her waist, bringing her close to him. They're wearing mittens. This is probably really old. I'm surprised they've been dating this long.

Oh, right, they're married now.

And then there's a wedding picture. It wasn't big, it wasn't a huge celebration like I thought it most likely was. They were in a regular office, and the frame showed three images. The top one showed them both signing the paper with ink. The next showed them holding hands again, and the rings were so evident. She wore a pullover and some capris, he wore some jeans and a regular black shirt. The rings looked expensive as hell; how could he afford such a nice ring, but forget to buy her a dress of some sort?

Well, her hair looks really short. But it looked longer than the other pictures. So this was probably extremely recent. My guess, anyway. And the last one, oh, how cute, it makes me want to gag. They're kissing. And holding each other. Why am I still creeping over this pictures? It makes me want to kiss her now.

I mean, she looks like she does give more than just good kisses…

Putting the frame down, and plop myself on the comfy couch. This house is giving me weird vibes. As if death occurred here or something. I hear some footsteps behind me, and sighed. "Did you want a drink or something?"

"No." I blurted out a bit too loudly. "When's dinner?"

"Almost done." He looks at me weird. His eyebrow's raised. What's his deal? "What were you doing?"

"Shut up and get me a beer." I wave my hand to his face, a gesture for him to get off his lazy ass and do what I told him to fetch me. After all, it's only fair after he nearly killed me outside, right? A simply request.

"We don't have any."

What! "Why not?"

"I don't drink anymore, either." He shrugged.

Are you fucking serious! He doesn't smoke, and now he's beer-free too! "Well then, buy me some."

"You're pretty persistent for a guest." He smirked with another shrug. Does he want to get punched with my good arm! I'm lying, my non-bruised arm is my weakest.

Before I can even muster an insult, she pops out of nowhere, an apron wrapped around her waist, as she softly called for us both to enter the dining room. Whatever she cooked, smelled really good. And then her eyes wandered to me, and widened. What was wrong?

Oh, was it my arm? It's no big deal! "What happened to your arm!" She shouted, panicing. She doesn't even know me and she cared? Weird. She looked at Sasuke who shrugged.

"He said he fell earlier." What a lie!

"Come!" She grabbed my other arm and led me to their huge bathroom. I need to get myself an apartment like this, it's so fucking huge. She grabbed a first-aid box and stuck her tongue out slightly as she wrapped some bandages over my small arm wound. She's cuter in person, honestly. Her hair was a bit short, but not completely bald. She had a headband pushing all of that short hair so that it wouldn't cover her face.

Her eyes looked very focused as they turned to my wound and then back to me on occasion. She gave me a smile and she, as I said before, has hardly even spoken more than three words to me in a little over ten minutes of seeing her in person. Can I mention that she had really _nice_ breasts? Because I had a pretty clear view from that v-neck she wore. God bless v-necks.

Anyway, she continued to repeat apologies about how my pain wasn't deserved, etc, etc. I did sort of deserve that punch, now that I think of it. I told him that she should've died! Good thing she wouldn't for a long time. She was really nice, actually.

"Um, d-dinner's ready, I'll serve you a plate now!" She said as she helped me up from the floor—I felt like a burden as it was already—and she took my hand once more and lead me to the table. Sasuke was too busy reading some bottle to even notice me. Was that a pill dispenser? He flipped the flap open for the disignated day of the week and placed two pills on his tongue, as he chugged his glass of water afterwards.

Rubbing his mouth with his sleeve, he blinked a few times and rested his elbows on the table. "What?"

"What's that?" I pointed.

"What's what."

"Don't act stupid!"

I was kind of hoping she didn't hear me.

"Oh, this?" He grabbed the dispenser. I nodded. "None of your business."

This guy really likes fucking with me! "I-"

She walked into the room and placed a plate with dangos and dumplings in front of me, as well as a cold soda wrapped in a napkin tightly. "Thank you." I grinned. She was really sweet. The perfect housewife, indeed. And she smiled back.

There was just something about her smile that I couldn't point out. She then returned with two more plates, as well as a glass of orange juice. I guess that was for her. And then, there was silence. But there was something killing me inside.

I wanted to ask her why she cut her hair before. Why she decided long hair was too much. I mean she's still cute and all, but really, she looked fine as hell with that long mane. Maybe she's growing it back?

"I have a question." I, with too much courage, muttered. Her ears perked up and her cheeks flushed. She looked at me.

"Y-yes?" A hint of curiousness.

"Why'd you cut your hair?" I asked, with a bit of an angry tone. This really did piss me off. I'm not sure why.

"I-"

"It looked better longer."

"W-well, I-"

"That was really stupid on your part."

I could already feel Sasuke's eyes burning through me. I didn't bother turning to him. I wanted answers. Girls usually care about their looks, correct? Why didn't she?

"Would you just let her answer you?" Sasuke practically shouted with force. I turned to him. What was his problem! I was curious!

"Well?" I turned back to her. She flinched. She scratched her cheek as they turned a medium-orange –like red and she smiled. But there she goes with those sad eyes again. Just like the ones in the picture. My purple orbs were just boaring into her lavender-like ones. "If you want, I'll buy you some extensions and bring them over-"

"I have cancer."

She said it so calm, and like, she looked like she was about to cry.

Wow, I'm a dick.

Why am I even here? Is this why Sasuke brought me here? To feel bad? Because I sure as fuck do now.

"I'm-"

"It's fine." She brought her napkin to her eyes and dried her tears. And they both held hands while she did so. It's like that was there thing. Sasuke didn't talk much so that was understandable. Why was I still here? I didn't deserve to eat her fine food while I practically insulted her without knowing the full story.

"I didn't know." I muttered.

"I know."

"I should go."

"Yeah."

Suddenly, the hospital pictures made sense. Suddenly, the fact that he no longer smoked/drinks connected with everything else. She was the reason he stopped those things. Her life was and is way more valuable than his. So he must love her a lot to quit the two most addicting things on this fucking planet.

I got up and left after that. I didn't even say "Thanks" or "Goodnight". I just left. I don't think I could face her delicate profile once more. I don't think I could apologize. I should. But I can't. What if, by the time I do, it's too late? I'll come back after the air around us slims down. Just, not now.

I don't even know her name.

_Author's Note-Yes, that was in Suigetsu's perpspective. I wanted to write that part like that because, well, it made more sense to me like that in my head. I'm sorry for the long pause! But here you go! I will update as fast as I can!_

_-brandfuckingnew_


	21. Chapter 21

You're Welcome.

There were sirens. I could hear them from the bench I was currently sitting on that was only two blocks away from the disastrous dinner I had to dismiss about an hour ago. The ambulance wouldn't shut up. I was trying to concentrate on how to go back in there and apologize, but when I turned my head, I noticed the ambulance was situated right in front of the apartment complex. What happened?

The noise itself was getting more louder as I approached it more and more. Each step I took just didn't help my ear drums. They were pounding harshly, just like my heart. I was hoping some old geezer was dying with a stroke in there or something. But no, as the people around me huddled around the entrance, I could only see the two people I didn't want to see. And one of them, I especially did not want to see on the stretcher.

Her eyes were shut. Not moments before did I see then staring at me, red and swollen, from crying. I made her cry. And then I could see her hand, her fingers loose, but another was gripping it, hard. It was his hand, of course. I had never seen Sasuke so upset. And all the people around them could only cry in despair, and look at him with sadness. His face was seriously focused solely on hers. I felt like I caused it at that moment.

It felt like because of what I did, things ended this way. I could see her chest rising, that was good. She was alive. I hoped she was. But my legs wouldn't permit me from standing still. I ran after Sasuke, and jumped into the ambulance along with him. He didn't push me off, or yell at me. He could only look at her.

And in a way I understood it. But I felt like this was my fault for some reason. Could he just tell me what happened? The nurses kept on putting needles through her veins and giving her an oxygen tank, I assumed. But he could only hold her hand. How does someone tolerate that? You know, the moment when you don't know if the person you love the most will leave you early or not? How do you not cry over that?

I mean I know men don't cry, and some do, and people cry, and sometimes guys do let tears fall here and there and all, but this guy is so into her I don't see why he isn't at the moment. He could cry and I wouldn't judge him. Because since I saw them both together, the only thing I could call it was love.

I don't think I could've. Why is shit happening so fucking fast? This is bullshit. And you know, apparently God is supposed to create miracles. It's a miracle that Sasuke stopped drugs. It's a miracle that he's happy. Why is God taking that away from him? Well, he could be teasing, because she's breathing so far, and her pulse—according to the machine radar to my left—seems to deem that she'll be fine.

But look how scared he looks. Fuck. If that were Karin…I don't know what I'd do.

It's weird.

"Sasuke I-"

"Shut up."

He said low enough for only me to hear. The nurses and doctor on board along with us were too busy pre-occupied with a scanner of some sort. Being shut up by your best friend sure is fucking dandy.

But I guess I deserve it.

"Excuse me, sir. What happened?" The nurse poked Sasuke's shoulder and he cringed a bit, not looking away from his wife on the stretcher. The pain in his eyes were evident to us all. Even to himself, I bet. Huh.

He didn't really answer. Not necessarily. He just took her clipboard and scribbled it all down with his free hand. So he made himself double-jointed for the sake of not letting go. The romance in the bus was so weird.

"Ah." The nurse whispered. Eh, she's in eight in my book from where I can see.

Regardless, once we arrived at the hospital, and she was pulled out, Sasuke followed at an extremely fast pace. Catching up with him was difficult.

"Oi, Sasuke!" I called. For the third time already. He didn't even bother stopping. They had already turned the corner into the emergency room, and only then was he stopped.

"Sir, you can't-"

"Move!"

"You have no authorization to pass, sir!" There were already security guards surrounding him. They didn't restrain him or anything, but by the looks on their faces, it he had tried to run past them again, he would've been kicked out.

"Why." He muttered.

"You will see her soon, I promise." The nurse replied. "I need you to fill out these papers, please." And she handed him another clipboard. Nodding with hesitance, he walked over to the waiting room, and of course, I followed.

"Sasuke, I'm-"

"Don't fucking apologize."

"I wasn't going to…" Fuck, how do I even? I'm in such a terrible predicament that I kind of wish that I was on that stretcher and not her. Fuck. "What happened?"

He didn't even look at me. He was too busy going through all of those papers and swiftly filling them out within a blink of an eye. He looked so tense. Not that I cared or anything, but this was most likely my fault. Maybe I stressed her out and she passed out or something. I can only pray that she ends up fine.

Otherwise Sasuke will never, ever, _ever_ forgive me. I can't even apologize properly. He wouldn't accept it, at all.

No. This can't be my fault. It isn't. I wasn't there when it happened. And if Sasuke doesn't want to tell me, fine. I'll ask the secretary or something. Not now though. I'm too busy staring at him to prevent him from going crazy.

Because he looked crazy right now. His eyes, his onyx, usually cold eyes, were huge. They were shaking. He was shaking. He kept running his fingers through his hair, almost every five seconds. And then he took the clipboard, placed it on the front desk counter, and sat right back down, looking only at the huge "Emergency" sign in bright red.

It hung down the hall, blinking every second.

I felt like wrapping an arm around his shoulder, but before I could even do so, I re-treated my arm. I stuffed my hands in my pockets. I needed a smoke. And I'm pretty sure deep down, he needed one too. When it came to drugs, we were so in-sync about it.

Mind you, this whole thing was giving me a major headache. I hate feeling. And I sort of really hated how he was ignoring me for the goddamn emergency door. How are two locked doors even interesting to stare at so intensely.

I mean he had a reason to do that but still.

I hate how emotional I'm getting. Deep down, there's a tiny part of me that hopes she's alright. And if she isn't, you can very well assume that Sasuke will crack even more.

I'm honestly scared that he'll break.

_Author's Note- Okay so I've been busy sort of these past few weeks. I'm currently attending Otakon 2011, so that's part of it. I'll update with a longer chapter soon! Review please._

_-brandfuckingnew_


	22. Chapter 22

You're Welcome.

An hour passed in the silent waiting room, where the youngest Uchiha was held by his wrists by a security guard, as his follower Suigetsu was held by his. Suigetsu was also adding pressure to his bloody nose, but you can already assume who gave him that and for what reason at this point.

Sasuke wasn't sure what was going on in his head. He felt like he was on acid—which isn't recommended—everything was spiraling, he was seeing different colors everywhere, as well as darkness. It was dark in the Uchiha's eyes. Not even the bright hospital lights could guide him out of his troubling thoughts.

This just couldn't be happening. Not now. Not when he had everything pieced together, when he had it all, when he was finally happy. Everything was just crashing down, crumbling down, all on him. His once decent life was gone. The one person he adored the most, showed the most affection to, received the most affection from, and the one person who understood him the most, was in a hospital bed two doors down.

He wasn't sure if he could handle it this time.

Last time, the coma, that was different. She woke up. She was fine. It worried the shit out of him then, but she was fine. She was even breathing.

Nurse Anko, the woman who had guided him to the room moments before, said her heart stopped. But from where he was currently situated, he could see her chest rise. Even if it was a bit, it was rising. She was breathing. She was alive.

He could finally breathe in peace. Even holding her cold hand worried him, but she was fine. She was going to be fine. Of course she was going to be! She's strong. Amazing. Perfect. She was everything he never truly deserved. How did he get her anyway?

Didn't matter. He had her now, and would have her forever. That was a fact.

He turned his head to look at her again. But her eyes were closed. He didn't know why. He would've called her name but she looked tired so he decided against it. Holding her hand right now was enough. It was always enough for them both. At least they were together. At least they could feel each other. He had shoved all of his pride to do this and even if someone stupid walked through those doors, he wouldn't let go.

He felt as though his throat was clogged. His lungs were tied. He was just so nervous now. Should he tell her something? Call her name? He wasn't sure.

Deciding to do it, he muttered a "Hinata."

No response. Her hand only gripped his tighter. So she was awake. Only being stubborn. She was so cute. He couldn't even hold in his snarl-like laughter.

"Hinata."

And still, no response. Just her hand. And she looked upset. Or tired. He couldn't tell which. But then she blinked while keeping her eyelids shut. She was crying.

What did he do?

What was going on?

She was going to be _fine_. Why was she so upset? She survived! He was happy! Why was she ruining this for him? Couldn't she just be content knowing that he was scared shit out of his mind for her? And that he loved her and that he showed it always if not even more just now?

It was impossible with her. Everything was, sometimes. Especially now.

Her finger slowly twirled on his knuckles.

I guess he should just let her do what she wants now. She was tired, evidently. But she was alive. That's all that mattered. He noticed the machine that had a plastic tube that led to a needle in her veins on her hand. He noticed the machine was turned off. He noticed that all the nurses were gone.

"Sasuke."

The first word she had spoken since she had collapsed in their complex.

For some reason, using the word 'their' in his head felt odd. It was as if that was going to end soon. But maybe that was his paranoia. Ignoring his stupid thoughts, he shook his head slightly and then turned to her, eyes narrowing.

What was she going to do?

Leave him? Was she going to hate him? What was she doing? Did she think that he could handle that? He couldn't, wouldn't, won't.

"Hin-"

"Can I p-please talk?" she stuttered slowly. She just could not stop crying. What the fuck was going on? He didn't—no, couldn't—feel his hands, and he didn't want to hold her or comfort her so that she could just tell him whatever was going on in her mind. Whatever she was going to say, was bound to cause damage.

He wasn't ready to be dumped. He wasn't ready to be abandoned. To be divorced. Whichever term applied to him, he wasn't ready to be all alone again. Without her, he wasn't sure what would happen afterwards. What he'd do because he lost the one person he never expected to slowly lose grasp of him.

The one person he had willingly protected for so long, and returned the favor by loving him to the core. He He didn't care what people thought of him, all opinions towards him didn't affect him at all. All but hers, to say the least.

He wasn't prepared.

And apparently, neither was she. Her life flashed before her eyes. He didn't expect it to happen so fast, but it did. He didn't expect to see her mouth the three words that hurt him more than a rejection. The three words he loved to hear but at this very moment, he hated them.

Uchiha Sasuke was never a man to treasure his feelings, let alone showing them to anyone but her in his entire twenty and over years of existence.

He shook her body, to try to get some sort of response from her, but nothing happened. She wasn't breathing. The nurses ran in along with the doctor. It was too late.

Uchiha Hinata died, and her last words that she couldn't even speak out were so quiet, it was truly a miracle that he could hear them.

"I love you."

And just like that, the stretcher she was resting on, with her eyes closed shut, was pushed out of the room. He was the only one left.

He just stood there, practically baffled. What had just happened was replaying over and over in his mind. His fucked up mind.

"_I love you." _She had said.

The last words that he was relieved to hear, even for the last time.

Uchiha Hinata was gone. And nothing, nor no one, could bring back the woman to was the light, the savior, and the purpose, of her spouse's life.

_Author's Note: I am SO sorry for the late update! My laptop charger has been wonky, and yesterday I JUST got a new one! I'm going to wrap up this story soon, so I am sorry for the lateness! Longer chapters, I promise! Xxx_

_-brandfuckingnew._


	23. Chapter 23

You're Welcome.

I didn't go to the funeral.

I couldn't bring myself to. I could feel that I had to, and deep in my heart, that's where I was heading. That morning—cloudy, rain pouring down my window—I could see my alarm ring, the green digits forming seven thirty in the morning. I was going to get up, get dressed, and go for her, but I couldn't. I didn't want to be surrounded by false people who never actually cared about her. I didn't want to face her family, no matter how badly I wanted to, I didn't.

I didn't want them to know she married a failure. A piece of shit. Scum. It was best they just stopped trying altogether. I mean, why didn't they try when she was alive? When she was in the hospital recovering? When she was in treatment?

They stopped caring the moment she told them she wanted to work in the medical field.

Sakura and Naruto tried to get me to go, and I appreciated their hospitality towards me. Those two really know when to be there when things start to get terrible, and when they worsen as well. But I didn't budge. And once I make up my mind, that's it. But they went. And they gave me a letter. I didn't open it.

Apparently she wrote it while I was in the waiting room. Apparently, it was read out loud, and had the Hyuugas mesmerized. But I can't bring myself to open it. It's too soon for that. I don't want to read them and then find myself wanting her back so soon. I want to get better, without this bullshit, and I want to read it when I feel it's right. I want her so badly right now and if I read it, I'd just up doing something incredibly idiotic.

I don't think she wants me to read it so soon either.

"I never realized how much she loved you." They both told me over the phone after it was over. At least, that's what my voicemail said. I didn't answer. I don't pick up calls anymore.

I wonder what they felt when they heard both her and I's voice laughing, saying "Uchiha residence, leave your name and number and we'll get back to you soon!".

I remember recording that, and I remember just how often she smiled as we both said it at the same time.

I don't even listen to it; I mute it when my voicemail goes on. When _our_ voicemail goes off.

Itachi tried calling, but I blocked his number.

He visited me twice, but I didn't open the door.

He tried to e-mail me, but I marked him as spam.

I saw him at a diner once, but I left before he noticed me there.

I didn't want to deal with anyone. I even stole her saved money from her drawer—that had been untouched since it happened—to buy more cigs.

I don't drink anymore. It's waste, it tastes gross, and I like being sober to think carefully instead of hoping some gross liquid would help me cope, because he doesn't.

I like smoking because I can be sane yet be insane all at the same time. I can think about what I did wrong, and what I can't take back.

I can think about how much I love her without being stupid about it.

I can miss her by myself.

I hate being alone.

I never realized that losing someone so precious as she was to me would affect me this much. I was never in love before, but people told me it would hurt, to lose someone like that so soon. A lot of people told me that.

That's why initially I avoided females in any romantic sense altogether.

I didn't want to feel what others did. I tried to avoid that. But of course I failed at that.

Just like she basically failed on me. She said she wouldn't die. Constantly. And I believed her.

But she did.

And so I'm breaking a promise in response to that.

I'm smoking in bed, and I don't care.

I stopped caring.

I twirled my cig and let the nicotine do all the work for me. All I could do was stare at everything in our room. The right side of my bed was empty, neat. The left where I was under the covers was messy, unappealing.

Her makeup bag was still there. Even if she barely wore any, she still had it.

She had her beanies on her dresser. My dresser was broken. I broke two of the drawers out of frustration.

You can guess why.

And there was glass in the living room, scattered all around. I broke frames of us together. Of us smiling. Laughing. Loving one another.

I thought that just flipping them downwards was alright. It'd be a waste. After all, she bought the frames.

But then that shock hit me so hard, that I just threw shit around until everything was gone. I hope she forgives me for that.

I don't clean. She did that.

I don't cook, so I don't eat, so I'm weak often, physically.

Mentally, I'm fucked.

There's dishes on the ground—shattered, but I shouldn't have to explain why I broke those too—and then others that were dirty from that night. From when it happened.

I can't bring myself to do anything anymore. I can only lay in bed and stare at my ceiling. And then I sleep and then my nightmares, of her being with me and then vanishing, would wake me up until I start screaming.

At one point I felt like crying, but I couldn't do it.

It's like my eyes were prevented from shedding a tear anymore.

I'd call Naruto every now and then, so that he wouldn't think I died or something.

Although I think about hanging myself a lot. But I'm sure every window thinks that at one point in their lives.

I wear my wedding ring still. Technically, I'm divorced, but I refuse. I'm married. I love my wife. She loves me. I'm not going to be unfaithful just because she isn't with me physically, emotionally, and mentally any longer.

Suigetsu comes over a lot. He's pretty silent now. I don't force him to talk, nor does he to me. I've rarely said a word since.

He tried apologizing, but what for? She didn't stop breathing over some dinner. It was me. And her health, not him.

He even brought me some food to make up for it.

And at that moment , I told him to shut up and to just eat with me.

I hadn't eaten in weeks, and it was a miracle how I survived. At least to me, anyway.

I had money so I wasn't worried about rent or anything. But I rarely left the house. And Suigetsu had to mail my paid bills for me. I was too uninspired to do anything.

He got me more cigs, too.

I never went to her grave. Not now, anyway. Not yet.

I would though. In some time.

She was probably waiting for me, as I was waiting for her.

For a sign. I wanted her to show me what to do. Because right now, I was lost.

I missed her. I loved her. I love her.

I don't understand why things failed the way they did. I don't get why things that're good for me always ends up bad. I don't get why things don't like to follow through.

Why did I have a tendency to possess bad luck?

I didn't do much. I lost the most important people in my life and I know I won't get either of them back.

Especially her.

I tried taking walks again. I tended to do that often. I still do. I pass by all the landmarks where we first began. That one video shop, the same taxi-guy who even pulled over and asked me how we were doing. And all I could do was walk away.

I stopped going outside.

I even broke her _The Smiths_ vinyl or whatever. Threw it out. I hated them. I hated them because she loved them and being reminded of her makes me feel even worse.

So no, I'm not doing fine. I should be coping, but I'm not. I'm barely used to not waking up to her face, to her tangled indigo, hair, to her glassy, pearl eyes, to her soft skin, to her smile.

I really wanted to see all of those things, even if it was one last time.

I rarely saw her in my sleep anymore.

It was as if she was completely gone from me. She left me for good. I could feel it, and I did.

She didn't want me anymore.

_Author's Note: It broke my heart writing this, I won't even deny that. Review please, I'm not even done with this story yet, so there's more to come.~_

_-brandfuckingnew._


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: I wish this story got more reviews, but that's not what writing is about. Writing is about writing for you (in this case me, the author/an author out there). Writing is enjoyable, and although time-consuming, it's worth every effort. So for those of you who actually take the time of day/night to read every chapter I ever post/posted, thank you so much. It truly means a bunch. Every review I get, they make me smile. Because no one is forced to tell me personally how they liked my work. I just wanted to thank you all. c:

Review if you must, review if you could, review if you would! :3

By the way, I'm still shocked no one has guessed what the title signifies. Whatever, you'll see soon enough!

-brandfuckingnew.

You're Welcome.

"You need therapy again."

It was said flat-out, no sense of humor, all serious. Her boring, mud-brown eyes were already trying to get someone out of my stone-onyx ones. Her brows lifted slightly, and her eyes softened. Why was she giving me the look parents usually give to disobedient children?

I was way past that stage of my life. I didn't need strange looks from people who weren't important to me.

"No." I said. What did she want me to say, 'Yes'? If I ditched them before, what made her think I'd actually attend these? I didn't want anything to do with the hospital, I didn't want to have to vent what I had boiling inside me to people who clearly _gave less of a shit_, and I didn't want pity either.

I was healing on my own, and for some reason, no one wanted to believe me.

I mean look at the dobe, for fucks sake! He had no one to begin with. His parents both died in some airplane accident. He never met them. Not once. He has no memories of them. All he has is a fucking frame of him being carried by his red-haired mom and his dad smiling with his arm around her shoulders, spiky-yellow locks framing his tan face.

He didn't have anyone and he wasn't being sent to therapy.

I have no one and I sure as fuck shouldn't need it either.

Let me rephrase that; I'm alone _again_, and no, I don't count my stupid older brother as anyone to me, because he's far from it. I hate him just as much as I hate my "dad" who left to who knows where. I literally hated them to the point where I like to pretend they're both dead to me as well.

I wasn't some psychotic guy with mental issues that involved violence. In fact, I was far from that. Can't they just let me drown in my guilt and loneliness for a bit longer? I was finally getting used to it again.

I was finally able to start over and start fresh. After all, I'm twenty-three, I think. Like age fucking matters.

"Sasuke," She said, her voice more stern than before. God, she was annoying. "This isn't healthy and you know it. I mean, look at this place! It's a dump!"

"How did you even find out where we….where _I_ live." I felt _her_ wrap her arms around my waist. I felt her chest against my back. I could tell she was frowning.

"That's irrelevant! Since I know you sure as hell won't come down to the hospital to see me, I will visit you every day for the next week for two hours." She raised herself from our couch and then tried to put her hands on my shoulders before I shrugged them off.

If any female's hands were going to touch me, it would be my wife's.

"Leave."

"I am!" She fumed, her eyes softening a bit as she reached to unlock our door. "I know you're sad, and that's perfectly normal. But you can't drown yourself in it. You need to recover quickly, I'm sure she wouldn't want you to be this unhappy."

And then she closed the door.

I'd give her a piece of my mind if I wasn't so light-headed. Our relationship was fine! Every time I go to sleep, I see her there, smiling at me. Sure, I can't touch her, because she's a figment of my imagination and all, but seeing her smile was good enough.

Who cared if they were hallucinations due to the prescribed pills I'm being forced to take (Or else I'd be arrested, she found my drugs once she got here and I had no choice but to accept this shit).

Hinata and I were _fine_. I'm completely sane. I'm sure of that.

She doesn't like doing the dishes so I do them all the time. She likes to dust around the apartment but she never seems to actually dust anything. So I have to do that, too. And when I do, her arms wrap around my waist and she inches close to my neck with her tiny nose on her toes.

She was so cute when I was on those pills. I almost forgot how cute she was.

I couldn't touch her back; I can't even tell her how much I miss her, because all she does is frown as if she was going to cry. And I'd tell her that it's fine, because at least I get to see her, and then she's happy again, running around the complex as if she was always with me.

She says that she misses me too.

And she told me to not read her letter yet.

So I won't.

I see her everywhere. She accompanies me wherever I go just like old times. Her hand is always linked with mine whenever I have to get groceries or more cigs. Of course, she, being the shy, timid girl that I love, would let go of my hand only when I reached the liquor store, and would stick her tongue out at me, frowning.

I told her that because she broke her promise, it was only fair I broke mine too.

So that topic dropped and she'd hold my hand again.

And people stared. At me holding "nothing" in their view, but I was holding her, and that was all that mattered. I can't directly wrap my arm around her, but my fingers are allowed to be entwined with hers.

I haven't told Shizune that she's with me again. Why does she care? She'd only try to take her away from me.

I wasn't going to lose her again. This was fine for now.

It'd have to do.

It was now Monday, the first day of week long, everyday two hour sessions of "therapy"—which I refuse to pay for considering I didn't want it in the first place.

Hinata's hand was holding mine behind my back. She kept whispering at me to listen and talk to anything Shizune asked about/demanded and etc. "We're here together, I want you to get better." She had mumbled into my ear.

I was honestly glad that I had had a regularly-refilled prescription. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't see her, even if she wasn't actually here, again.

"So, Sasuke. Is there a reason you're still wearing your ring?"

Not this question. What do I say? I looked at her, turning my head to my left. Hinata only flushed. I really, really, missed her flushed cheeks.

"Tell her that you're married." She laughed. Nodding slightly at her with a half-smile, I turned at the confused therapist.

"Because I'm married."

"Like I suspected, denial." Shizune sighed. "Sasuke, tell me this; what do you miss about her so much that you can't seem to let go of?"

I turned my head again and she frowned. My wife was frowning. And I could see her cheeks getting rosy, and that her pearl-eyes were glassy. She was crying because of this shit.

"Everything." I said. It was only fifteen minutes into this session and I already wanted her to leave. I didn't feel any bit better. But Hinata held my hand tighter, and at that I laughed lightly. I couldn't hold it in, she was just so cute.

And I really wanted her to smile back at me, which she did. I loved her smile.

I loved _her_.

"Sasuke, what did you just smile and laugh at?"

Fuck.

"Not you."

"Then who? Who're you seeing?" Was there a spark of excitement in her eyes? I could only feel my hand being held tighter. "Sasuke, what do you see?"

"None of your business."

She let go of my hand.

Look what Shizune did! "Fine, don't tell me. This is more for your benefit than me, Sasuke." She muttered. "This is obviously a bad time. I'll stop by tomorrow for four hours to recover from this one. Too soon." She said.

And then she left.

And then Hinata held my hand again.

:::::

I'm overdosing on my meds but it's only because the more I take, the more time I get to spend with my wife. I take one every hour, and it doesn't really do much, except I get lazier and lazier, and she just ends up looking so much more real. It was as if she was really, truly there with me.

But I thought of it as a positive thing. At least she was here, right?

At least I could love her again, right?

At least she could love me again, right?

And everything would spin occasionally, but she would bring me a glass of water, and I was sure as hell positive that my cup of water was real, so she was too, right?

Or was it just a figment of my imagination blending with her ghost haunting me with temptation to caress her once more?

Didn't matter, I wasn't scared, paranoid, nothing. Not only could I hide her for only myself, but she was only visible to me.

She only came down here for me. Not once had she mentioned her dumb family. And believe me, they called plentiful times. I even let her listen to each and every one of _our_ messages.

But for some reason, the Hyuugas' message made her sad.

"_Uchiha Sasuke, this is Hiashi, Hinata's father. While it infuriated me that you didn't attend the funeral in her honor, I suppose it's too soon for me to judge you solely on that. I wasn't informed you were her husband until today, and I would only like to acknowledge you in the aspect that you made her happier than I ever could. For that, I thank you. Don't end up like her because you couldn't tolerate her absence."_

Click.

I never did call back. "You should call him." She had nudged me on the side, smiling.

"Aren't you upset that he's basically telling me to move on without you?"

She pulled herself closer to me on the couch. She laid herself on top of me, my back against the leather cushions. Her chin rested on my rising chest, my heartbeat increasing a bit.

I couldn't feel a single weight on me.

"Why are you smiling? Not that I don't like you being happy, but he wasn't being friendly." I mumbled.

All she really did was smile again and kiss my nose.

I felt it.

Or at least, I think I did.

I hoped.


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: _Yup_. I kind of want to end this already because there's so many chapters but I love this story so yeah.

You're Welcome.

She kept biting my ear. And I could feel it. So clearly she was there, right? It wasn't like a tug at my ear would happen on its own. It was her teeth nibbling on it. So of course it's safe to assume she was here with me.

Whatever. Believe me if you want, because I fucking felt it.

"Sasu." She said as her fingers were sprawled all over my chest. She had unbuttoned my shirt to the point where she just gazed at my chest with a slight blush on her pale cheeks.

"Huh?" I mumbled.

This happened a lot. She'd just do things to me that made me want to flip myself on top of her and take here then and there, but then what?

It wasn't like she was actually here…

Or at least I tried to get that obvious statement out of my head. Fuck that.

Her kisses were now trailing down my throat and I closed my eyes, furrowing my eyebrows together. I'll just let her do whatever she wants, I decided. I was too tired to go ahead and ignite stuff first.

Not only that but I felt like I should try to hang onto my sanity, or at least whatever was left of it.

"Do you not like it?" Her tone definitely sounded as though she was upset.

It seemed as though whenever I didn't play along she was hurt. I didn't open my eyes, because they ached too much. Instead I pulled her towards me chest and just placed her head under my chin.

"Sorry."

I didn't like it when she apologized. It wasn't her fault she wasn't actually present with me anymore. For some reason, I tried my hardest to ignore the fact that yes, she's fucking dead, and no, fucking a figment of your imagination won't help your mental state nor your sanity.

I didn't want her to be upset for dying. It wasn't her fault. If anything, it was mine.

"Hn."

"Are you mad at m-me?"

That caught me off guard. "No." My fingers made their way down to her hips, as I lifted her shirt up and began to create circles on her hip bones.

I didn't know why she tried so hard to make conversation. Our relationship generally was silence. And although it was at times aggravating to not hear her voice, I loved how little she spoke. Because at least it meant the less she spoke, and whenever she did, that whatever she said would mean more considering how rare it was to even hear her say anything at all.

I felt as though she always asked me that.

She lifted her arms and let her fingers fiddle with my hair.

"I love you."

It sounded just as sweet and gentle as the very first time she ever told me those words.

I leaned in and kissed her cheek.

I didn't really want to speak. It felt refreshing to just hear her, and only her, besides my heart beating out of my chest. She was speaking as though she was truly there. Talking to me about how she left dinner in the microwave while I was sleeping, how she got to visit Ino who didn't see her (because of the obvious) and that did make my chest hurt.

She looked sad every time she mentioned any of her obnoxious friends. I didn't know what do when she was this upset. It wasn't like I had any power over whatever the fuck I had that no one else did to be able to see her, feel her, hear her.

She was only visible to me and it was clearly evident she didn't think I was enough, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Before I knew it, she climbed over me once more and began to kiss me where ever she left she wanted to.

Her lips traced along my jaw—it took me all the strength to endure the sensation I've been missing out on for so long—and I tried not to open my eyes.

I felt like crying. And I never cry. But it just felt so real—_she_ felt so real—on top of me, her touch just as soft as I could last recall.

The kisses were small and gentle, and were reaching to my Adam's apple now. She tugged my skin softly, and I couldn't hold it in—I groaned. Because I really did miss when she did that.

She then began to tug at the skin on my neck, damaging my once perfectly pale and clear skin with love marks everywhere, or at least I assumed. I had to grip her thighs to push her closer, her chest against mine.

I could feel my eyes water but I doubt she noticed. She just continued to kiss me and I tried my hardest to keep a blank expression, eyes still shut.

It wasn't that I didn't like it.

In fact, I did. A lot.

But she wasn't actually here.

And it was as if she felt that if she did what she was doing, it'd make me happy.

But in reality, it didn't help at all. In fact, it makes me feel worse.

Because she isn't really here, and I just miss her so much that even illusions weren't going to help. She wasn't actually here. I didn't actually feel anything.

But my mind was telling me otherwise.

I felt weight on top of me, I felt soft lips, I saw indigo hair, I saw pale eyes meet mine, I felt thighs in my hands, I felt saliva on my neck, and I just wanted to cry to make it stop.

I wanted to cry to tell her that just having here with me was enough.

But Uchihas don't cry. And I wasn't going to. I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

"Sasuke, your e-eyes are watery."

Shit.

"What?"

"Are you sad?" The innocence in her words never faded. Only worriment increased.

"Nah." I brought her closer.

"Why do you always lie?"

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are." She stood up from above me, a frown plastered on her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyebrows furrowed, her gaze fixed on me. I grimaced. "Y-you're never honest with me anymore. It's like…you don't want me here anymore."

Bullshit.

She sighed, her eyes now watery.

It really pained me to see her cry.

"If you have to, do it. Let it out." She whispered, tears falling down her cheeks as they eventually hit my face. "P-please."

I wasn't sure whether those were my own or if my roof was leaking. Because I clearly am not supposed to feel a figment of my imagination crying on top of me.

So, I cried. And she held me without questioning it. She was safely correct into assuming I didn't want to tell her why. But I really had to let it all out. And I did feel sort of childish crying, but to imagine here being there comforting me made me feel a bit better.

Even though she wasn't really here, but to see her wrap her arms around me and to see her rest her invisible head against my chest as she tightened her grasp around me was calming me down, even if just a little bit.

:::::

"What do you mean no more refills?" I asked, staring at the clearly bored clerk as he arched a brow as my tone leveled up a bit. His name tag read _Nara Shikamaru_ and his black, short hair was pulled all the way back into a spiky, high, yet short ponytail.

He didn't even look like he cared. He looked like the type to just sleep and eat whenever he felt like it.

"Well, 'says you're not supposed to get anymore." He shrugged.

"Can't you just give me more?" He persisted with a dull expression. Hinata's hand tightened its grip on myown that was under the counter of the window.

Shikamaru sighed. "How troublesome. Talk to your therapist or whatever, I'm afraid I can't do anything else."

"But I really need this."

He snorted. "Yeah, well, I really need this job."

I could feel myself wanting to punch him through the window but of course, Hinata once again held me back.

"Say, what're you holding?" He pointed to our hands being conjoined.

"Don't you see her?"

"See who?" His brows furrowed as he stared at me and at Hinata, only I could tell he didn't see her at all.

"That your girlfriend?"

I blinked. He saw her? "What?"

"Is that your girlfriend?" He pointed to Hinata who looked baffled herself. Her cheeks turned rosy as the attention was directed at her. She shook her head.

"I'm his w-wife." She stuttered awkwardly, smiling.

Was I the only one confused? And a bit glad? I mean, he saw her. He knew her. He noticed her.

Does this mean I'm even more crazier than I was before? I mean, how could he see her? Did anyone else? "How did you-"

"I see Shizune daily too." He shrugged.

Oh, of course. So he must be on the pills as well.

"Then I guess I still can't get the refill?"

He scratched the back of his neck, sighing loudly. "You're lucky that I get where you're coming from. Hold on." He went out back and returned with a new bottle full of pills. "This should last you at least a few months or so. Just take it any leave."

"Thanks."

So I wasn't the only insane one.

A part of me really wanted to tell Shizune her methods are damaging people, but then again, who was I to complain to a very happy Hinata by my side?


	26. Epilogue

Author's Note: I had to wrap this up. I figured now or never. Thanks to every single one of you who stuck with me through this whole should'veendalongtimeago fics. Originally it was written for my deceased friend but now all I can say is I wrote what I felt and what Sasuke must've felt, if you will. This epilogue made me cry writing it.

A song that brought me to tears as I wrote this was King Park by La Dispute.

-brandfuckingnew.

Epilogue.

I'm standing in front of it. It's been over a year. I'm off pills. I'm over them. Every fake figment of my imagination of her left my thoughts and escaped my mind. I wasn't tied down by guilt anymore. No one told me to go here now. Many told me, no, forced me, to come to my senses, to see the light, and to get out of bed and off my ass and visit her. But it took a year. Not a week like everyone else for the funeral. Not a month afterwards. A year.

Twelve months.

Three hundred and sixty five days.

Today's the anniversary.

I'm holding the letter tightly in my grasp, the scarf around my throat is tied tightly. I brought a stool.

No one's here.

I tied the ends on the branch above me. I feel suffocated. I feel like the cold, breezy air isn't enough. I don't feel it enter my lungs; I just feel it slapping me across the face. My hair's moving in different directions. I'm hovering about the graves. I can see the cement chipping off, every stone, old and brand new, underneath me.

I can feel my hands shaking. My eyes are watery. I can feel myself tempted to kick the stool away so I can just get it over with. But I can't. Not at this second. I'm not done yet.

"I'm here." I say. But I know I won't get a reply. But I know she sees me. I just know that.

"I'm sorry I took so long." I mutter. I know she's probably smiling at me, and laughing. So I laugh back. she liked my laugh.

I wish I could hear hers.

"I bought you a new vinyl. Because I broke the other one." I send the vinyl container flying underneath me, and it hits the stone lightly. It didn't break.

But I did.

"I still don't like them." I said. I knew she loved them, but that's why I hated them. She should only be able to love me.

And she does. She'll be smiling in a good ten minutes once I'm done with this shit.

I flex my fingers, and my hands are shaking violently. I don't know why. I swung off my gloves so much earlier, and the breeze slaps my bruised knuckles softly, and it hurts.

I'm hurting.

I brought the note. I'm about to finally open it. My heart's pounding. She's probably eager to see me read her words. The words that apparently traumatized the people who went to the funeral. They probably were crying when they read it out loud.

It wasn't even addressed to them.

But once I flip it open, once I read it, I can imagine her voice softly saying them. I can imagine her standing on her toes and hugging me, whatever the words may be, she did that a lot.

I hope she does that soon when I see her again.

"I don't know what this says, but no matter what, I love you." I say quietly. She can hear me, I know it. I have a feeling she knew I'd be here.

I lift the paper open and I feel my chest aching. I can't hold back, my onyx eyes, now red and puffy, are overflowing with blurriness as the tears take over. I can't breathe. It's not the noose I created, not yet.

It's her words. Not an 'I love you', because I got to see her say them that day a year ago. But two other ones.

"_You're welcome_." I read out loud. I drop the paper. I feel like smashing the vinyl all over again. I feel like tugging the strands on my scalp off. I feel like shit.

But now, now I don't have to. I'm still crying silently, my mouth is tightly shut, my eyes are blinking fast. I need this air for now. I need it.

I take deep breathes. And I tug the noose tighter. And tighter. I feel light-headed. Suffocating. I can barely see anything.

Everything is moving. She's probably smiling, knowing that I'm finally going to be with her again. I hope I can see her. That's why I'm doing this. For her. I don't care about me.

With the last energy I have stored, I kick the wooden stool and it falls to the ground. Besides the scarf I used, the rope is helping. The burnt feeling against my throat aches, it burns, and my tears won't stop. They just won't.

I'm gapping for air. My eyes turn to the ceiling. I stare at it. Slowly, everything is fading.

Slowly, everything is gone.

Slowly, I died.


End file.
